Closure
by Lugubrious DBB
Summary: All stories have an end. For Elsa, Anna, Kristoff, and their family, closure can be found in the simplest of places: with one another. The conclusion of my "Voices" saga.
1. Chapter 1: Fragmentation

**Closure**  
**or, Circuity**

**Chapter One**

**Fragmentation**

* * *

_There are no happy endings . . . because nothing ever ends.  
__—Peter S. Beagle, _The Last Unicorn

* * *

_The Queen . . . Did she ever come back?_

_ That is a story, my dear, for another time . . . For tonight . . ._

* * *

_The worst part of being pregnant,_ Anna thought to herself, _is waking up in the middle of the night. Again. And again. And again!_

She didn't need to open her eyes to know that morning was hours away; the sound of her husband's deep, rhythmic breathing as he lay next to her, along with the babe within her womb's impeccable sense of timing, was enough. Anna groaned to herself as she covered her face with her pillow, hoping against hope that the pattern that had established itself over the past month would finally be broken, that the child would allow her a welcome respite and let her drift back into blissful slumber. Holding still, she breathed slowly, her inhalations and exhalations aligning themselves with the light-yet-steady pitter-patter of the late autumn rain against the bedroom window. _It will be winter soon, _Anna thought to herself, her eyes growing heavy as she allowed the rain to lull her back to the precipice of unconsciousness. _Winter . . . El—_

The sharp kick within her womb forced the princess of Arendelle back to the realm of the awake. For as far as the baby was concerned, Anna had slept enough; it was time for _movement._

_Even the twins weren't _this _restless, _she thought as she forced herself—ever-so-reluctantly—out of bed, taking care not to lose her balance from the ever-increasing swell of her abdomen and its effect on her center of gravity. Stifling a yawn—or was it five yawns?—she glared down at her husband's slumbering form, blissfully unaware of her plight.

_When this baby is born, you're getting up in the night for a whole month, Kristoff, _she thought, lighting a candle as she opened the bedroom door. _And you're shaving that beard off. I _hate _it!_

"'But Anna,'" she said to herself as she began making her way down the corridor, her voice modulating to her best impression of her husband's voice. "'Valanda says it makes me look distinguished!'"

"Well, she's wrong!" she fired back in her own voice. "And Alúvelin agrees with me. So, there you . . ."

Her voice trailed off as she mentally kicked herself for being so critical of her husband, her heart sinking into her queasy stomach as she reflected upon just how much he had changed over the past few years as the result of their adventures. While he was most certainly a loving husband and a wonderful father—and she loved him more at that moment than she had on her wedding day—her spirit ached at how protective he felt he needed to be of her, of their children, of even Alúvelin and Valanda. She had long since forgotten the last time he had slept without his knife beneath his pillow, since he had made love to her without being embarrassed—in spite of her many protestations that she didn't care in the slightest—by the patchwork of scars etched into his torso from the many enemies their family had faced over the years. And while he would never acknowledge while he was awake that the strain and fear had taken its toll on him, always brushing aside her concerns with a laugh and a toss of his shaggy head, she _knew _from the murmurs, the tossing and turning, the grimaces of pain he expressed in his sleep on occasion that he was—

She inhaled sharply as another flurry of activity emanated from her belly. "All right, all right!" she whispered, her gaze directed downward. "We're going, sweetness. Mama's going . . ."

As had become her custom over the past month, Anna gingerly tiptoed to the room across the hall, careful to be as quiet as she could. Soundlessly, she pushed open the door, her gaze peering upon the slumbering forms of her six-year-old twins. A smile tugged at her lips of its own accord as she watched Célebron and Élsaweth, taking care not to disturb them, to bother their peace in the slightest. _After everything they've had to suffer through in their lives already, they deserve as much peace as they can get._

A soft laugh escaped Élsaweth's throat, the product of what Anna hoped was a pleasant dream, a gentle flurry of snowflakes cascading about her as she rolled herself onto her side. One of the snowflakes drifted, as if drawn to Anna's presence, toward the doorway, coming to rest upon the soft fabric of Anna's nightgown before melting into nothingness.

_That _had gotten the baby's attention. Despite her discomfort from the infant's excited movement, Anna found herself beaming with joy as she soundlessly closed the door. "You liked that, didn't you, sweetness?" she whispered, her free hand caressing her belly. "Your brother and sister . . . They can't wait to meet you!"

Anna cocked her head, pondering as she absentmindedly continued down the silent corridor toward the staircase, her feet moving of their own accord, her mind elsewhere. "Will you be like me and your daddy?" she asked softly, her heart already knowing the answer to her query. "Or will you be like your siblings and cause all sorts of trouble with ice and snow?" The candle in her hand flickered excitedly, its tiny flame dancing, casting shadows, bringing light to darkness, forcing Anna from her reverie.

"Your mama's not been paying attention, sweetness," Anna whispered, taking care not to draw the attention of the palace's night watch. The guards had meant well when they had met her upon her midnight rounds before, but she had grown tired of being asked if she was feeling all right, if she needed anything, as if she, a grown woman who had faced more dangers than most men had faced in five lifetimes, were incapable of navigating her way around a palace that held no absolutely secrets from her.

Blinking, she frowned, her eyes widening as she realized just where her feet had taken her—whether by chance or through unconscious desire, she did not know—as she raised the candle to eye level. A thick, heavy door stood before her, dark, ominous in the nighttime shadows. A door that had not been opened since . . . since . . .

_Not now, _she told herself, swallowing the lump forming within her throat. _It's been a year already. Not now . . ._

"We'd better get back to bed, little one," she said, preparing to turn back, to make her way back up the stairs to bed. "That's enough for one night. No more. No—"

She gasped as she felt her child leap forward within her womb, the sudden motion causing her to lose her balance, to lean forward to steady herself. Except she _wasn't _steadied in the slightest, for the door, impossible as it was for her to believe—_I thought this had been locked since she_—creaked open, taking the pregnant princess with it into the chamber beyond.

Anna shrieked involuntarily as she tumbled forward, fear rising within her heart as she saw visions in her mind of herself tumbling forward, landing awkwardly upon her abdomen, crushing her baby to death. Hands flailing wildly, she managed to take hold of the bookcase lining the wall within the darkened room, her fingers tightening around the shelf as she fought the inertia of her pregnant form until, after what seemed an eternity, she steadied herself.

"Are you all right, sweetness?" she whispered, pressing her hands to her belly. Her plea was answered before the words left her lips as a series of elated kicks emanated from her womb. Exhaling in relief, she swallowed, her eyes trying to adjust to her surroundings. The inky blackness of the room seemed to swallow her in its embrace. Shuddering in spite of herself, Anna ever-so-carefully reached down to retrieve her candle from the floor, astonished to discover that somehow its flame still burned after the near disaster that was her entrance to her current location.

She brought the candle to the level of her eyes, inhaling sharply as she beheld the large desk that stood like a silent sentinel before her. Coated in dust, the furnishing nevertheless seemed to radiate an aura of power, of an authority stretching back centuries to time immemorial. Anna swallowed as she stepped forward, her fingers brushing away a year's worth of grime and cobwebs as they made their way across the wooden surface.

She was in the palace study, the office that had, by venerable tradition, been the sole providence of the reigning monarch of Arendelle. Anna felt her hand tremble as her fingers caressed the aged wood, her eyes fixated, even in the dim illumination of the candle, upon the empty chair resting astride the desk. Alúvelin—_God bless her_—had not protested in the slightest when Anna a year earlier had insisted the study be sealed from intrusion, from disturbance, even though it would have been her right, as queen pro tempore of the 'Delle, to use the study as her place of business, just as it had been the right of—

Anna felt her lip begin to tremble of its own accord, her teeth bearing down upon it in an instance, ceasing its involuntarily motion. The taste of blood cascaded over her tongue as she felt her stomach churn, and this time she knew this was not from the motion of her unborn child. _I need to go, _she told herself, turning toward the door, her cheeks burning in shame. _I promised I would leave it just as she left it, so when she comes back, everything will be . . . just as she—_

"Ah!"

The princess of Arendelle yelped in astonishment as the candle slipped from her grasp, its flame landing upon the desk. Quickly, Anna snatched the candle back into her hand, thankful that the dust-encrusted papers before her had not become an out-of-control conflagration. Inhaling deeply, forcing herself to calm down, Anna leaned forward, her gaze fixated upon the papers. _Maybe . . . just maybe, she left something . . . _anything _that would explain why she left. More than what she told us . . . _me_, at least . . ._

Memories flickered in her mind, darting about in the same manner as the light from the candle she clutched within her palm. Her sister's voice echoed through the recesses of her consciousness—_Anna, please! Try to understand! There are some places even you cannot accompany me to . . ._—as, in her mind's eye, she conjured the last memory she possessed of her sister's face. The sadness, the regret, the pain of loss after countless loss compiled over the years emanated from her sister's eyes, just as she remembered. Yet, Anna was certain that beneath the sadness, she could sense, for the first time, that there was something more behind her sister's desire to leave Arendelle, to venture forth into the world . . . alone . . . without her . . .

Her cautious hope turned to ash as she quickly skimmed through the documents. Official decrees, notes regarding what had a year earlier been forthcoming events on the royal calendar, and so forth were all Anna could find amidst the papers and parchments. Anna's eyes widened as she realized none of the papers were written in her sister's hand; they were all prepared by the men who had drafted them, awaiting a royal signature that had never come.

Anna slammed the papers down on the desk in frustration, momentarily forgetting what time it was, that she had no desire for anyone in the palace to discover she had broken her own rule and entered the royal study. As her fist made contact with the wood, she felt something depress ever-so-slightly, the nearly imperceptible triggering of, well, _something _made manifest by the sudden dislodging of a compartment mere inches from her swollen belly.

Anna jumped in spite of herself in surprise. Curiosity overwhelming her, she leaned forward, silently willing the candle to increase its illumination. A thin drawer had almost exploded forth from the wood just below the desk's surface, a drawer that Anna was certain had been invisible to the naked eye even when the study was bathed in the warm radiance of daylight. She certainly had never seen it before during the countless hours she had spent keeping her sister company while she had been working. Nor, Anna considered, had her sister ever made mention of it, for that matter.

Anna frowned as she beheld the drawer's contents, disappointment washing over her as she saw a single piece of paper atop . . . well, something she could not make out in the blackness of the study. Sighing bitterly, the princess of Arendelle sat the candle on the desk, her pregnant form sinking into the chair that had once belonged to her father . . . to _Elsa_. A grimace escaped her throat as her child chose that moment to engage in another bout of tumbles and kicks.

"I know, sweetness," she whispered, her right hand caressing her abdomen, her left bringing the document closer to the candle's flame. "Just a few more minutes and we'll . . ."

She leaned forward, expecting to see nothing more than another document prepared by for her sister's signature, a signature that, like the others, had never been affixed. Her breath caught in her throat as she realized she was looking at her sister's—_Elsa's!_—handwriting. Anna clenched tightly on the paper, forcing her trembling hand to cease its motion so she could read just what her sister had written. The princess's heart skipped a beat, her eyes growing wide, as she beheld the first word on the paper: _Anna._

_She . . . She left this . . . for _me_? How . . . How did she know I would—_

Sinking back into the chair, Anna brought the candle as close as she could to the now-precious document without setting it aflame. As her moistening eyes moved across the paper, she swore she could _hear _her sister's voice in her mind, communicating to her from across the vastness of the Continent.

_Anna, _the document read. _If you have found this—and of course, as we both know, only _you _would have found this—then all my precautions have been for nothing. I had so hoped I would have returned before you had a chance to discover this, and I had hoped that by not telling you, by keeping you unaware of this, you would have been safe . . ._

Anna paused, a shudder running down her spine. _Why? _she thought to herself. _Why . . . Why didn't she tell me about . . . whatever it is? She _promised _me no more secrets. I don't . . ._

Inhaling, she continued reading. _I know I told you, Alúvelin, Valanda, and Kristoff that I needed time to myself, that that was the reason I left. While there is an element of truth in this, there is another reason. A terrible thought occurred to me after the incident in the Southern Isles, one that, while it had been lurking in the back of my mind for some time, I only fully grasped upon our return to Arendelle. You have no idea how much it pains me to keep this secret from you, Anna; how much it hurts that I have to leave you, even though I promised I never would. But if you trust me . . . if you _love _me as much as I hope you do, you _must _do exactly as I tell you, for the sake of our family, for your beautiful children, and for our beloved Arendelle._

"What?" Anna whispered aloud involuntarily, her heart pounding within her breast. "What, Elsa? What could be so terrible that you would keep us from—"

_If you are reading this letter now, put it back in the drawer from whence it came. Shut the drawer completely. Do _not _look at anything else within the drawer, not even for a second. Once you are certain the drawer is sealed, that its very existence is impossible to detect, leave the study. Lock the door and _do not _allow anyone else, not even Alúvelin, to enter until I have returned and dealt with the matter. Above all, as much as it pains me to ask you to keep things from even your husband, do not tell a single soul about what I have written. The danger of what would happen if someone, no matter how pure their intentions, were to discover . . . _it _is precisely why I have hidden it here, rather than under lock and key with the palace guards. I promise, dearest Anna, that once I have come home and eliminated the threat, I will explain everything. But, for now, you _must _do what I ask without question. I have lost so much over the years, Anna, and I have accepted these losses, as painful as they have been. Were I to lose you, however, I . . . I do not know what I would do. Please trust me, and I pray I will see you soon. Your loving sister . . . Elsa._

Anna sat in stunned silence for several moments, her breathing the only sound filling the study. What felt like dozens of conflicting emotions coursed through her mind simultaneously: joy at discovering a message from her sister meant solely for her, pain as the memory of Elsa's departure echoed through her consciousness, confusion, frustration and even anger that even now, after everything the two of them and their family had endured together, Elsa still felt the need to keep secrets from her.

_She didn't mean to be gone this long, _Anna thought to herself. _She thought she would have been back by now. What if . . . What if something . . . happened to her and—_

She swallowed, fighting to keep her lip from trembling as the possibility she had forced herself to refuse to consider for the past year rose to the forefront of her mind: that something had happened to Elsa that had kept her from returning . . . possibly forev—  
_No!_

The princess rose from the chair, a determined expression upon her countenance. _Elsa _will _come back, sweetness, _she thought as her hand caressed her abdomen once more. _Until then, I have to do what she asked me to do. I'm the only person who can . . ._

Her mind made up, Anna set the letter back in the drawer, her eyes averted from the _something _else contained within the recesses of the furniture, precisely as Elsa had instructed. Her hand felt its way downward passed her belly, coming to rest upon the open drawer. Inhaling slowly, Anna closed her eyes, prepared to seal away both the letter and whatever had Elsa so terrified that she had fled Arendelle to find a solution—

"Ow!"

Anna yelped in pain as the flame of the candle caressed her fingertips, the candle having burned down much further than she had realized over the course of her midnight sojourn. Her fingers released their hold on the candle involuntarily as she shoved them into her mouth. Pain turned to panic as she realized the candle was still lit, that it had rolled under the desk, that it had to be retrieved before she ended up accidentally setting the study ablaze. Instinctively, Anna knelt downward as quickly as she could—

Stars exploded before her eyes as her brow made harsh contact with the open drawer. Dazed, Anna slumped to the floor, her world suddenly filled with bright pink and purple dots. Groaning, she reached forward with her hand, fumbling about to find something, _anything_, that could support her pregnant form, that could help her stand again.

The next thing Anna knew, the drawer came crashing down around her. In her haze, she had tried to pull herself up by grasping the open compartment. Having not been designed for such a purpose, the drawer had simply succumbed to the laws of physics, becoming detached from the rest of the desk, coming to rest upon the floor next to Anna's head, along with its contents.

Had she been in full possession of her senses, Anna would have exited the study immediately in obedience to her sister's request. In her confused state, however, the princess found herself staring at the whatever-it-was that had been hidden away in the recesses of the drawer along with Elsa's letter. In pain, confused, and tormented by the sensation of her unborn child suddenly deciding to pummel her womb with kick after kick after kick, Anna closed her eyes, promising herself that the terrible _something _Elsa had warned her about could be dealt with in a few moments . . .

_Anna!_

The princess's eyes snapped open at the sound. Uncertain if she had actually heard what she had thought she had heard, or if it had simply been a product of wishful thinking, she froze, hardly daring to breathe. Through the fog of pain that still clouded her vision, she could see the candle she had dropped moments earlier, relief flooding her exhausted form as she observed that the flame had snuffed itself out. The oppressive silence seemed to press itself on top of her as she lay on the floor of the study, her aching head throbbing as, convinced she had merely imagined the voice, she closed her eyes once more, wanting nothing more than to provide both herself and her unborn child with the rest they both so desperately needed—

_Anna, please! Help me . . .!_

Anna sat upright as the voice returned. The desperation, the pleading, the fear so clearly evident in _that _voice caused the princess to cast her eyes about the study. Her heart beating furiously within her breast, she shook her head, sending the dots and the lights into the recesses of her consciousness. Leaning forward, her hands pressed to the floor, her abdomen resting against the rug, she licked her lips, a single word tentatively, hesitantly, hopefully emanating from her throat.

"Elsa?!"

As her sister's name floated from her lips, the bundled _something _next to her erupted with brilliant blue light. Shielding her eyes, Anna leaned forward, her hands trembling as they reached forward toward the whatever it was. As her hands grasped the soft fabric encasing the item, she felt a flurry of fear course through her body.

_Leave it alone! _part of her mind commanded her. _You read what Elsa begged you to do! Put it away! Don't look at it! Leave now and wait until Elsa comes back!_

_But . . . _Another part of Anna's mind began to speak to her now. _But, what if . . . What if Elsa _isn't _coming back? What if something terrible—_

_You can't think like that! _the rational part of her mind countered. _This is Elsa we're talking about! _Nothing _can stop her! Not even—_

_Please, Anna!_ The voice had returned, louder this time. _I'm so scared! I _need _you . . ._

_That _had done it. Anna inhaled sharply as she beheld the concealed something in her hand, her hands tightening around it as she realized that her sister's voice—_Elsa's _voice—was emanating from within the bundle. Throwing caution to the wind, she cast aside the coverings keeping the whatever-it-was hidden away, the blue light receding as, after what seemed an eternity but may have been nothing more than a matter of seconds, she saw—

The hand mirror in Anna's grasp was by far the most . . . _unusual _mirror the princess of Arendelle had ever seen. The cool blue light pulsed and radiated from the mirror, allowing Anna to see every detail of its form in spite of the blackness of the study. Rather than its face being composed of a single piece of smooth, untainted glass, this mirror had been pieced together from what appeared to be dozens—hundreds, perhaps—of individual fragments, the cracks and seams distorting its reflective properties. Confused, uncertain, Anna brought the mirror before her face, her reflection all but impossible to discern amidst the cracks and impurities of the glass. "What . . . I don't understand . . . Elsa? Where are you?!"

Anna's eyes widened in shock as, impossibly, the cracks and fractures in the glass began to disappear. The blue light reflected on the princess's face as the imperfections smoothed themselves out, faster and faster with each passing second, until, at last, the mirror appeared pure, smooth, the unnatural glow radiating from the glass the only indication the item in Anna's hand was anything more than an ordinary mirror.

Her hands shaking, Anna glanced back toward the door, her heartbeat sounding in her ears as she realized she should have obeyed her sister's commands and left the bundle well enough alone. Desperately, she willed her legs to stand, not wanting to look at the mirror, but her legs refused to respond, the weight of her unborn child upsetting her center of balance such that she could not stand without support, and—

_Anna, look at me!_

Involuntarily, Anna responded to her sister's voice, her eyes darting back toward the mirror once more. Her own reflection met her gaze, but there was something . . . _off _about it. Something dark, something sinister . . .

To her horror, Anna realized she could not look away, no matter how much she tried to cast her sight anywhere but upon the mirror. Terror began to wash over her as somehow, someway—_This can't be real! _she told herself. _This _has _to be a dream! Please, God! Please, say it's just a horrible dream!_—her reflection moved toward her, its hand extending forth from the confines of the glass, coming to rest upon her breast. As Anna quaked with fear for both herself and the infant within her womb, her reflective doppelganger's face twisted itself into a cold, malicious sneer.

_All too easy, _her reflection whispered, now in her own—oh, God, her own—voice. _The princess of Arendelle is clearly weaker, more easily swayed, more easily manipulated than her sister. Not that it matters in the slightest, dearie . . ._

"Kristoff . . ."

Anna tried to scream her husband's name, to alert the guards, to draw the attention of someone, _anyone_, who could save her from her plight. But try as she might, all she could manage was a single, hushed whisper. Color drained from her face as her reflection laughed, and laughed, and laughed.

_There is no salvation for you, dearie. Not now. Not ever. Now, dear princess . . . Now, you are _ours_!_

* * *

**AN: I apologize to any of my longtime readers who still may be on this forum for my absence. I had meant to provide a meaningful ending to this series some time ago, but life, unfortunately, has gotten in the way. As I finally appear to have enough time to actually write again, I want to leave you with one last story that will, hopefully, provide, as the title indicates, a sense of true closure to this series. Unlike my usual writing process, most of this story is written already, and needs only fine tuning and adjustments. I would hope that I have left enough clues, from the title of this chapter and other indications in the text, as to the direction the story will progress for those who are familiar with my "Voices" universe. Thank you again, and more to come.**


	2. Chapter 2: Deconstruction

**Closure  
or, Circuity**

**Chapter Two**

**Deconstruction**

_Please, this isn't real! This _can't _be real! Please, no!_

Anna tried with every fiber of her being to shut her eyes, to hurl the mirror across the study, to pull herself to her feet and flee the room as fast as she possibly could. But something prevented her from doing so—whether her own terror or some external force, she had no idea. Consequently, she remained affixed to the floor of the study, her eyes unable to tear themselves away from her counterpart in the mirror, a counterpart who, to Anna's horror, _laughed _the most unmirthful, unhappy laugh the princess had ever heard.

_Oh, dearie. I'm afraid that this is all too real. Yes, very, very real, indeed . . ._

Anna inhaled sharply. _How . . . How did it—_

_We can see your mind, dearie, _the reflection stated matter-of-factly. _You have no secrets from us._

Anna opened her mouth, fighting with all her might to speak through her fear and whatever hold this monstrosity before her held on her. "How . . . What . . . _are _you . . .?"

Her reflection laughed once more, the pitch of its voice deepening, growing more menacing as the image slowly dissolved, melting into a swirling pool of blue light contained within the glass of the mirror. _What are we? What _are _we?_

Anna's heart seemed to leap into her throat as the blue light erupted from the mirror. Unable to look away, her eyes followed the light as it darted and danced about the study, moving about the furniture, along the walls as if gliding across a frozen lake. _We, dearie, are your greatest fears. What keeps you awake long into the night when you think your precious husband is asleep. What torments you in the deepest, darkest recesses of your consciousness. What you have hidden away deep within the depths of your soul, buried under layer after layer of the cheerful and optimistic façade you present to the world . . . that you have used for years now as your coping mechanism for dealing with the fear and self-loathing you secretly harbor._

The princess flinched as the light suddenly reversed direction, speeding toward her at blinding speed. Involuntarily, she threw up her hands, bracing herself for the light to—

The light ceased its motion mere inches from her face. Slowly, deliberately, the light surrounded her, encircled her, moved about as if studying her . . . analyzing her. _Oh, dearie, _the voice rang in her ears. _Yes . . . We can sense the fear radiating from you now. But not so much for yourself as for . . . _The light paused as it floated above her belly. _As for the life growing inside you now—_

"Stop it!"

Anna's voice was little more than a whisper as she stared helplessly at the blueness before her. "Please, no! Not . . . Not this!" Memories of what had happened back in the western mountains when she had been pregnant with the twins danced through her mind, the memory of cold, hard steel pressed against the flesh of her abdomen causing her to quake and tremble involuntarily. "Not again! _Not again!_"

The mirthless laugh returned, louder this time, as if emanating from the innermost recesses of Anna's mind. _Foolish, pathetic little princess! We must admit, we are disappointed in you! Your sister, at least, presented a challenge to us, resisted us, fought against us. You, on the other hand, are so weak that the mere suggestion we might harm your offspring causes you to fall completely apart!_

Anna's eyes widened as a terrible thought ran through her mind. "It's . . . It can't be! You can't be . . . _them_! Elsa . . . She . . . She sent you away forever!"

_That she did!_

The force of the blue light's words in Anna's mind sent the princess falling backwards, her head making harsh contact with the floor of the study. Moaning in pain, Anna saw the light come to rest before her eyes, the intensity of its luminescence seemingly increasing with each passing second. _No wonder the snow queen abandoned you! _the voices taunted. _After what you did to her, even after all she sacrificed to protect you!_

_What? _"I . . . I didn't do _anything _to her!" Anna protested feebly, too tired, to overwhelmed with an ever-increasing feeling of despair and hopelessness that had suddenly washed over her to offer more resistance to the accusations.

_HA!_

Impossibly, the mirror floated of its own accord before Anna's dazed countenance, the blue light suddenly rushing back into it at breakneck speed. A blinding flash of light and a loud _crack _filled the study as images began to form upon the glassy surface of the mirror, images that, to her horror, Anna realized she knew all too well.

She saw herself as a teenager on the day of her parents' funeral, her younger self dressed in black from head to toe, slumped on the floor outside Elsa's bedroom, her older sister looking down at her with an expression of regret and sorrow etched into every pore of her face. _Anna, please! _Elsa whispered, her hands clutching one another tightly against her breast. _I . . . I am so sorry, but I can't go to the funeral! I can't explain why, but . . . but I love you, and . . . and I—_

_ No!_

Anna tried desperately to close her eyes, to block out the sound, to prevent herself from having to witness her younger self deliver the remark she _knew _was coming. But try as she might, her eyes remained open, incapable of looking away. In the face of the mirror, she saw her younger self look up at Elsa, an expression of disbelief mixed with anger and—_Oh, God, I'm so sorry, Elsa! I didn't _know_!—_even revulsion upon her face. _You say you love me, _Anna heard her younger self say, _and then you act like _this_! _As younger Anna walked away from her older sister, the Anna on the floor of the study watched in horror as she beheld something she couldn't possibly have remembered, for she had not been present to witness it. She saw Elsa open the door to her bedroom, her face contorted in agony, her lip trembling as she fought to control herself. "Stop this!" Anna whispered to the mirror, her hands shaking. "Please . . . Please, don't make me watch—"

Without warning, Elsa fell to her knees, a scream of pure, unadulterated despair erupting from her throat. The night table beside the bed exploded as a wave of blue ice erupted from Elsa's form, thousands of icy splinters flying about the bedroom. Unable to move, Anna could only watch as she saw her older sister pound her fists against her head. _I hate you! _Elsa whispered to herself as she assaulted herself again and again and again. _I hate you! Anna hates you! You have nobody now! Mother hated you! _Father _hated you! Unholy! Unnatural! _Monster_ . . .!_

_ You could have comforted her, dearie!_

The voices rang out in Anna's mind, tears streaming down her cheeks as she witnessed Elsa continue to punish herself. _You could have eased her suffering! You could have taken away her pain! But you didn't! Why?_

"I . . . I didn't know!" Anna protested weakly, tears still streaming down her eyes, unable to wipe them away as her arms remained pinned to her side by the unseen force that was tormenting her. "My memories! They . . . They took them away from me! I forgot that Elsa had—"

_Excuses, excuses!_

The laughter was back again in Anna's mind, louder this time, more frightening. _You _should _have known, dearie! You _know _this deep within the depths of your soul, don't you?_

"I was a child!" Anna whispered, her excuse pathetic even to her own ears as the waves of misery pressed even more tightly upon her. "I was confused!"

_Or, _the voices cackled, _could it be that you _wanted _your sister to suffer? That you were so self-centered, so selfish, so inconsiderate that you were all too happy to goad her, mock her even in spite of everything she willingly set aside—her own happiness, her sense of self-worth—to keep you safe?!_

"Why are you doing this?" Anna whimpered, shuddering in pain as her unborn child kicked her womb again and again, her hand unable to leave her side to massage the babe into relaxing as was her custom. "Why—"

_Silence, dearie!_

Anna's eyes widened as the blue light swirled in the mirror once more. The scene shifted, revealing the palace ballroom, the chamber alight with the glow of hundreds of candles. The scent of countless dishes wafted from the mirror into the princess's nostrils, her stomach churning with pregnancy-induced discomfort, her heart crumbling within her breast as the smells reminded her of precisely what she was about to witness.

"Please, no," she murmured helplessly. "This . . . This is _cruel _. . . !"

_WATCH! _the voices commanded.

She saw herself again, several years older, this time at Elsa's coronation celebration. Arm in arm with Prince Hans—she shuddered involuntarily at the sight—the younger Anna launched into a diatribe against Elsa.

_What do you _mean _you won't give us your blessing?! _younger Anna practically shouted at her sister. _It's _true love_!_

_ Anna, what could you possibly know about true love? _Elsa asked, her gloved hand moving to her lips the moment the words left her tongue, regret evident within her eyes.

"Stop it!" Anna whispered, hoping against hope she could command her younger self to back down, to obey Elsa, to not do what she _knew _she was about to do—

Younger Anna had pulled off Elsa's glove by this point, practically quaking with confusion. _You won't talk to me! _the princess in the mirror cried out. _Why? Why do you hide yourself in your room all the time? Why do you keep the gates closed? Why do you act so _selfish_, Elsa?!_

"You're hurting her!" Anna shouted at her younger self, her eyes bloodshot, her face stained with countless tears. "How can you not see that?! How could _I _not see that?!"

Anna watched helplessly as Elsa turned away, the young monarch trying her best to escape her younger sister's verbal assault without losing control. "Let me touch her!" Anna begged the voices. "Let me hold her! Let me show her how wrong I was! Please! _Please!_"

_Too late for that, dearie. WATCH!_

_ What is it, Elsa?! _younger Anna cried out, refusing to let Elsa leave in peace. _Why do you hate the world so much?! Why do you hate _me_ so much?! What are you so _afraid _of?!_

_ ENOUGH!_

Anna watched in horror as she saw her sister lose control, as the ice erupted from her fingertips, flying about the ballroom, creating a protective barrier between the young queen and the world she had tried for thirteen years to shut out. The silence that had descended upon the ballroom quickly evaporated as murmurs, accusations began to ring out from among the crowd. _Sorceress! Unnatural! Unworthy! _Monster_!_

The expression on Elsa's face broke Anna's heart all over again. The terrified queen looked briefly at her younger sister, the one person in the world she should have been able to trust above all others, the very person who had caused her to reveal her terrible secret. As the Elsa in the mirror fled the ballroom, Anna sank back against the floor, overwhelmed with guilt and misery.

_We could do this all night, dearie, _the voices whispered in her ear. _So many memories. So many times you have failed her over the years . . ._

The blue light swirled within the mirror again, faster and faster this time as scene after scene played out in rapid succession: Elsa falling from the top of the palace, a frozen Asgard in tow; the Fire Empress of the West torturing Elsa in the obsidian dungeon; Anna reacting in shock and horror as Elsa revealed the identity of her true father; Anna accusing Elsa of deliberately altering her memories, compromising her sense of self; faster and faster until they blended into what seemed a single, interminable strand of never-ending misery as what seemed like wave after wave of anguish and misery flowed out of the mirror and washed over her, almost as if the princess could _see _the darkness overcoming her, dragging her to the emotional abyss, sapping her of the last vestiges of happiness she possessed when—

"STOP!"

Anna could take no more. Her spirit broken, she finally—_finally_—was given leave by the voices to close her eyes, to try to blot out the evidence on full display of just what a terrible sister she had been over the years. Desperately, she searched her spirit for something positive to cling to, to pull her back from the precipice, but an impenetrable fog seemed to be blocking her, preventing her, from accessing anything but misery and depression.

_Tell us._

The voices were soft in her mind now, yet firm, authoritative. _Why did your sister leave you and your family, princess?_

"Please," she whispered, shaking her head again and again. "Please, don't make me—"

You _are the cause of all her suffering, all her pain, aren't you? _Aren't you_?_

Anna could no longer deny what was now, thanks to the mirror, clear as day. "Yes," she confessed. "Yes, I am . . ."

_You have failed her so many times, haven't you, princess?_

"I . . . I have . . ."

_Without you, your sister's life would have been so much better, wouldn't it? _Wouldn't _it?_

"I . . . I . . ."

_Say it! _the voices commanded, another wave of despair emanating from the mirror, washing over the princess.

Anna felt the blood drain from her face as, at long last, she realized and accepted what she had tried to deny in the recesses of her mind for so many years. "Yes," she murmured. "Yes. It's my fault. It's all my fault. I . . . I . . ."

_And your husband?_

The voices were bolder now, pressing their advantage. _You know the real reason your husband sleeps with a knife, don't you? It isn't to protect you; it's because he wants to _kill_ you. He hasn't been man enough yet, but trust us, dearie, the time is coming when his hatred toward you—what you've done to his children by passing on your sister's curse to them, how by marrying you he's been granted nothing but a life of suffering and misery—will finally cause him to act._

Anna opened her mouth to argue, but she felt so helpless, so depressed, so lost in darkness and despair that she could not piece together a rebuttal. Licking her lips, she managed to choke out, "That . . . That's not true," not even certain she believed her own words any longer. "He would . . . He would never . . ."

_Wouldn't he?_

The voices cackled in her mind, crowing victoriously. _You just admitted your sister's life would have been better off without you. Do you honestly believe now, having confessed to that, that your husband's would not have been likewise?_

Anna shook her head. "No . . . I mean, I . . . I don't _know _anymore!"

_Yes, you do!_

Anna gasped, the horrible truth resounding in her mind at long last. "I . . . Elsa was wrong," she whispered. "She was wrong all along. She . . . She thought _she _was a monster, but, all the time, it was . . . it was _me_! I . . . I've caused so much pain to so many people!" She began to sob again, barely even noticing her child's movements within her womb, so deeply mired in despair was she.

_Yes, dearie, _the voices stated matter-of-factly. _Yes, you have! You have finally admitted the truth to yourself. Now, it is time for you to _do _something about it!_

Anna inhaled sharply as a knife appeared within her palm, its blade shining blue from the light pulsating from the mirror. "I . . . I . . . No! I can't!"

_You _must_!_

The voices were louder than they had ever been before, drowning out Anna's own thoughts, making it difficult to judge where she ended and the intruders began in her mind. _It is justice, _they continued. _You have condemned yourself with your own words!_

Anna shook her head, trying with all her might to release the knife from her grasp, but her muscles refused to obey her commands. "I can't! My . . . My baby! The twins! Kristoff . . . They _need _me!"

The princess cried out in pain as some unseen force slid her backwards into the bookcase, her muscles aching as she slumped to the floor once more. Dazed, overwhelmed, she thought that, perhaps, she heard a voice outside the study, pounding on the door, crying her name, struggling to enter. But the moment was gone as soon as it had arrived, the voices driving any other sound but their own from her consciousness.

_No one needs you! _the voices spat. _You have admitted as much yourself! If you truly love your children, your husband, your family . . . Elsa, you will rid them of your presence. It is the only way they can be happy, dearie. The _only _way . . ._

Anna watched in horror as her hand rose to the level of her breast, the blade within her grasp angling itself downward, coming to rest above her heart. "I . . . I . . . I don't _want _to—"

_Do it NOW! _Her doppelganger was visible in the mirror once more, its eyes glaring at her with malice, with disgust, with utter contempt.

As Anna sat in the darkened study, the knife resting precariously above her heart, a single thought echoed through her mind: _Somebody! Please! _Help me _. . .!_

* * *

**AN: More to come!**


	3. Chapter 3: Return

**Closure**  
**or, Circuity**

**Chapter Three**

**Return**

It was chaos inside Anna's mind at that moment. Every muscle in her arms seemed to scream at her in agony, protesting her stubborn resistance to the voices' commands. The knife hovered dangerously close to her breast, but somehow, someway, it had not penetrated her flesh, had not pierced her heart . . . yet.

The voices, for their part, were none too pleased. _Damn you, princess! _they snarled. _Why do you resist? You are _not _your sister. You are nowhere near as strong as she! If even she, willful though she was, could not keep from breaking, what makes you think you have the ability to fight us?_

Terrified though she was, Anna gritted her teeth, memories surging through her mind. Crying out in pain, in frustration, fighting with every fiber of her being against the tendrils of despair and misery the voices were unleashing in the recesses of her consciousness, she managed to force the knife away from her chest, holding it at arms' length. "But . . . Elsa _didn't _break!" she gasped, her brow soaked with perspiration from the strain. "She . . . She _fought _you . . . for so long! She . . . She _beat _you!"

Not a sound emanated from the voices, and for the briefest of moments Anna thought she had bested them. Turning her head toward the door of the study, she prepared to toss the knife aside, to call out to whomever was still pounding on the door—for she could hear it now, clear as a bell; there was no denying it, no dismissing it as a mere figment of her addled imagination—that she and the baby were safe, that she would unlock the door momentarily and—

She screamed in surprise and abject terror as the mirror seemed to erupt with blue light before her eyes, the force of the radiance hurling her against the bookcase once more. She could _feel _the unseen force pin her arms to her side, lock her legs stiffly together, take hold of her head in a vicelike grip, compelling her to observe whatever fresh hellish vision the voices had conjured for her now.

_Really?!_

The voices were practically roaring in her ears in rage now, so loud, so furious that Anna was certain she was about to be deafened from the sound. _Is THAT what you think happened, dearie?! Oh, you are so, so _wrong_, princess! She didn't "beat" us at all! On the contrary: We _broke _her, dearie! Difficult though it was, after thirteen years, after everything we put her through, she just wanted the pain to end!_

The light in the mirror swirled and pulsated once more. Anna's sense of triumph melted away like the first snow of winter under the harsh light of the noonday sun as she beheld Elsa within the glass once more. Her sister was kneeling upon the frozen waters of the fjord, her eyes shut tight, her breathing slow, labored. Anna gasped as, over Elsa's shoulder, she beheld her own frozen form, her arm held high, her entire body encased in solid blue ice. Agony washed over every inch of the princess's body as she remembered just how painful that had been. But the phantom pain Anna experienced in that moment was nothing compared to the torment that threatened to rent her heart in two at the sight of what the specter that was her sister in the mirror was doing.

As Anna watched, helpless, Elsa opened her eyes, her expression glassy, devoid of hope, completely empty of any sign of happiness whatsoever. The living memory of Anna's older sister glanced down at her hands, surprised, it seemed, to see that she was grasping a dagger made of solid ice. Anna felt her breath catch in her throat as she saw Elsa raise the dagger before her eyes, studying the weapon, analyzing it . . . contemplating something—

_Yes!_

To Anna's horror, the Elsa in the mirror brought the knife over her heart, carefully positioning it, every movement slow, deliberate. _I just want the pain to end, _Anna heard Elsa whisper. _I have no one left! No one!_

"Stop!" Anna gasped. With a cry, she managed to free one arm from the vicelike grip pinning it to her side. She stretched out her hand toward the mirror, hoping against hope that she could somehow, someway, reach into the mirror itself, into the past, even though she knew in the depths of her soul such an endeavor was impossible—

_You're right!_

Elsa's voice was little more than a whisper, as if responding to a voice only she could hear. _I did this, _Elsa murmured. _Anna . . . is dead . . . because of me! This . . . _She looked at the dagger, setting her jaw. _This is justice! _Before she could change her mind, Elsa thrust the blade toward her breast, eyes shut tight—

"NO!"

Anna screamed as the vision dissipated into nothingness. Her hand trembling, she glared at the blue light, her eyes blazing with fury. "You!" she spat, her depression and misery evaporating, replaced by cold, unadulterated anger. "You didn't win!" she hissed. "Elsa didn't kill herself! I . . . I stopped her! You . . . You _failed_ after all!"

The voices did not respond, the study filling with the sounds of pounding on the door, growing louder with each passing second. ". . . Dammit! Anna! Open this door! Hold on, I'm going to—"

_You know _nothing_!_

The voices exploded in Anna's mind, louder than ever. The invisible force pressed the princess against the bookcase once more, the blue light swirling about her form faster and faster. _She was ours to torment! _the voices roared. _Ours to decide whether she lived or died! We _owned _her, princess! And you . . . You snatched our victory from us! Now . . ._

Anna cried out as her hand clutched tightly on the knife once more, as her arm moved of its own accord above her heart once again. Groaning, she fought to keep herself from responding to the unseen demon that had her in its clutches, but this time, it was too strong, she was too weak, she—

_You took what was rightfully ours from us, dearie! And now . . . now, we are here to punish you accordingly. Now . . . _DO IT_—_

The door to the study burst open as a figure came roaring in. The distraction was enough to cause the force to lose its focus on Anna. The knife fell from her clutches. Dazed, confused, exhausted, Anna turned her head to see—

"Get the hell away from her!"

Kristoff, her husband, was at her side in an instant. Kneeling beside her, he hurled the knife at Anna's side across the study, his other hand thrusting his own weapon toward the blue light, driving it backwards.

"Kristoff . . ."

The man glanced down at his wife, his face creased with worry. "Are you all right?" he whispered, his free hand caressing her cheek before coming to rest upon her belly. "What . . . What hap—"

_So!_

The voices sounded across the study, louder this time, loud enough that Kristoff could hear as well. He cried out in surprise as something he could not see lifted him in the air, hurling him across the room, the already injured shoulder he had used to break open the door colliding with the far wall. Crying out in pain, he slumped to the floor, his hand losing his grip on his knife as his arm went numb.

The blue light was before his face in an instant. _So . . . _This _is who the Princess of Arendelle chose? The "Ice Master" of the 'Delle? A meaningless title for a worthless, meaningless, common nobody! An orphan! A man without a past . . . without a future! _The mirthless laugh echoed loudly in both Anna and Kristoff's minds. _Pathetic! Utterly, totally pathetic!_

Kristoff curled his lip in a defiant snarl. "Go to hell, whatever you are!" Grimacing, he forced himself to sit upright, doing his best to ignore the fact that he could still feel nothing in his right arm. "Is this . . . the best you can do?!"

The snarl left his lip in an instant as the unseen force flung him into the wall again and again and again. Anna's screams sounded in his ears as he felt the dark tendrils from the light pry into the innermost recesses of his mind. Long suppressed memories tore to the forefront of his consciousness: his abandonment by his father, the torment and beatings he received from the men who exploited his desperation as a boy to profit from his hard work with inadequate pay, the cynical veneer he had developed to cope with a world that was cold, that was cruel, that offered nothing but pain for a _nothing _like himself—

_Impressive._

Kristoff fell to the floor once again as the force released its hold on him. Panting, wheezing, he managed to roll himself onto his stomach, his eyes glancing upward at the blue light hovering before his face.

_You are much stronger than you let on, Ice Master, _the voices conceded. _A lesser man would have broken under the strain of such a life. But . . . breaking men is what we do best, you see. And since your lovely wife is hardly in any shape to come to your aid at the moment . . ._

Kristoff glanced across the room at Anna. She lay on the floor, moaning in pain as her child's movements grew stronger, more excited, the strain she had endured that evening overwhelming her.

_Let's just say, _the voices cackled, _that the two of us will have a long night together . . . alone!_

A single laugh escaped Kristoff's throat as he forced himself to his knees in spite of his injuries. "You know, the one thing . . . that _every _single enemy we've faced over the years . . . has in common . . . is they think they're so damn _smart_! Did you really think . . . I was alone?!"

A torrent of flame and ice exploded into the study, colliding with the blue light. The force of the impact sent the light careening wildly about the room, coming to rest in the corner opposite Kristoff.

Two women entered the study, both with hair the color of fire, one with emerald eyes, the other with eyes the color of purest ice. Each of them bore an expression of purest rage as they raised their hands. The shorter one's hands glowed bright orange, heat searing from her fingertips. The glow from the taller woman's hands, in contrast, were not uniform: while her left hand shared the same fiery orange radiating from it as her companion's, her right hand shone with frigid, blue luminescence.

The taller one turned to Kristoff, her face lined with concern. "Are you all right?"

Kristoff groaned as he took hold of the table beside him with his left hand, slowly pulling himself to his feet. "Never better," he responded. He gestured toward his wife across the study. "Anna . . . She . . . She . . ."

The tall woman nodded. Glancing toward the younger looking woman at her side, she cocked her head in Anna's direction. "Mother . . . Please . . . Can you—"

Valanda, the shorter woman, nodded. "Yes." She looked at the blue light in the corner, its radiance dulled, no longer swirling about. "Be careful, _adamera_," she whispered as she went to kneel by Anna.

"Va . . . Valanda," Anna murmured as the woman knelt beside her. "The . . . The baby . . . Is . . . Is it—"

Valanda put her hand to Anna's abdomen, smiling as she sensed the life growing inside the princess. "It . . . _She _is fine, Anna," she said, brushing the hair from Anna's eyes. "She is strong. Just like her mother."

Anna laughed in spite of the pain washing over her. "You . . . Did you hear that, Kristoff?" she whispered, her lips turning upward as she looked at her husband across the room. "A girl . . . We're having a _girl _. . ."

_How nice!_

The door to the study slammed shut of its own accord, thick tendrils of blue light poring over every crack in the wood, sealing it closed, preventing any from outside the study from entering. The tall red-haired woman glared at the light in the corner, the radiance from her hands intensifying as she stared it down. "Open the door, whatever you are," she commanded. "Open it, or I will freeze and burn you simultaneously again and again until you—"

_Will you now?!_

The voices boomed throughout the study, the volume seeming to shake the very walls themselves. Before the tall woman could react, she felt something lift her from the ground, pinning her atop the desk in the study's center. Papers went flying about as the woman was pressed into the hard wood of the desk, the light in her hands fading away as she lost the ability to move.

_So . . . The once-Empress of the _brann wielders _of the west . . . now temporary queen of Arendelle in your sister's absence . . . subdued so easily! _The laugh was louder now, the tenor of the voices utterly sinister. _Color us unimpressed, dearie . . ._

"_Adamera!"_

Valanda stood, her face lined with worry for her daughter. "Get away from her!" she commanded.

_Or what?!_

The woman on the table glared at the blue light, defiance etched in her face. "You . . . Whatever you are, you do not terrify me in the slightest. I am Alúvelin, Bearer of Light! You will not—"

_Lies!_

Alúvelin's face contorted in pain as without warning she felt something foreign swirling within her mind, her innermost thoughts and secrets violated, her deepest fears being explored without her permission. _Alúvelin? Is _that _what you call yourself now? You may have changed your name, dear Empress, but you cannot change what you are. You are the darkness! You are evil personified! You are despair and defeat to all who dare question your power, unwanted one . . . _Vindegroth_!"_

Alúvelin shuddered at the sound of the name she had not heard in years. "That . . . That is not my name!" she protested, fighting with all her strength to pull herself from the table, yet stymied at every turn by the unseen weight. "Not any longer! Not since—"

_Lies! Lies! Lies!_

The voices were stronger now, more vicious, as they careened through the recesses of Alúvelin's thoughts. The flame-haired woman's eyes rolled into the back of her head as memory after memory of the despair, the rejection, the torment she had suffered at the hands of her grandmother washed over her. Memories of her unleashing her flame upon any who dared challenge her, her laughing at the suffering of others—

"AAAGHH!"

Fire and ice exploded from the center of Alúvelin's being from the strain. Crying out in shock, Valanda dove atop Anna, desperate to protect her from the elements as icicles and flame flew overhead. Kristoff hurled himself back to the floor, narrowly avoiding being set ablaze by a fireball heading his direction. The flame collided with the bookcase, setting the many books and documents upon it ablaze. As the noxious scent of smoke began to fill the confines of the study, the voices crowed triumphantly.

_You fools! _they cried. Kristoff and Valanda cried out in surprise and pain as they were lifted from the floor and thrown against the far wall.

_Did you really think you could best us? _the voices laughed. _That your pathetic, miserable power over ice and flame would be of any consequence to us? _The blue light hovered above Alúvelin, encircling her left hand. _If only you had thought to put on the Eden-stone before you decided to attack us, then, perhaps you would have stood a chance with the aid of its power. But as you are . . . You are less than nothing, Vindegroth! Like the princess, like the ice master, like your mother over there, you are no match for us!_

Alúvelin opened her mouth, her tongue desperately trying to offer a retort, to counter the voices' relentless assault. As it was, however, she found herself unable to do so, the black tendrils of despair and hopelessness tearing through her mind, rendering her incapable of resistance.

_We will break each of you within the hour! _the voices cackled. _We will make you, Empress, relive your darkest fears again and again until you beg us for death! As for you, mother of hers . . ._

The blue light flew to Valanda, centering itself before her face. _Yes, mother of hers who has defied time itself to remain so young. We will remind you of your worst nightmare, the place you dread so much . . ._

Valanda's face grew pale, her green eyes filled with terror. "No!" she whispered. "Not that! Please, no! Not again . . . I can't—"

_That's right! The space between life and death is one you have experienced before, dear Valanda. The coldness, the despair, the complete lack of hope as you find yourself not quite alive, yet not quite dead . . . We will take you there again and again in your mind. And this time, dearie, you _will _go quite mad indeed . . ._

"Bastard!"

The blue light turned toward the source of the insult, moving toward Kristoff. _And you, ice master! Death would be too easy a punishment for your impertinence, we fear. Rather, your torment will be to live, while we take that which is most precious to you . . ._

Kristoff felt his heart skip a beat. "Don't you . . . Don't you dare—"

_Silence!_

The blue light hovered above Anna now, coming to rest above her swollen belly. _That's right, ice master! You will watch your precious wife kill herself and her unborn child! You will watch, knowing there is nothing you can do about it!_

The knife was in Anna's hand once more, somehow, someway. She knew she should fight against the force that compelled her to grasp it firmly, to hold it above her heart once again, but she was so tired, the pain was too much, every last ounce of hope she possessed inaccessible to her.

"Anna, stop!" Kristoff roared, struggling with all his might to break free of his bonds. "Fight it! Fight it!"

_No, _the voices whispered in her ear. _End it. End it now. End your suffering. Save your unborn child from this cruel, hopeless world. It would be the merciful course of action. Now, princess! NOW!_

Anna closed her eyes, trying her best to stop herself, but she knew she could not hold out forever, that sooner or later, she would give in, and—

_WHAT?!_

The knife fell from her hand as the force released its hold on her. Opening her eyes, Anna gasped in astonishment as, through the smoke and the flames, she saw the door to the study begin to glow with blue and silver light. Certain she was imagining things, that the smoke was choking her, confusing her, Anna shook her head, astounded to see that the light only grew brighter and brighter with each passing second until—

The door to the study exploded, thousands of tiny shards of wood flying every which way. The silver-blue light seemed to engulf the room entirely, a rush of cool wind and frigid ice washing over the fire, effortlessly extinguishing the hot flame.

Anna's eyes widened as the blue light recoiled back against the far wall as a solitary figure entered the study, silvery-blue light emanating from its hands. _It . . . It can't be . . . I'm imagining things . . ._

A single word, ever-so-quiet, left Anna's lips, her addled mind hardly expecting a reaction from what she was certain was a mere hallucination: "Hey."

The figure turned toward her at the sound of the single syllable. Satisfied that the blue light had been contained for the time being, the figure knelt beside Anna, the light fading from its hands as it took hold of the princess's face.

Anna studied the figure before her, hardly daring to believe what she was witnessing. The figure's platinum blonde hair cascaded about her face freely, her silvery dress hidden beneath a long blue overcoat that seemed to sparkle and shimmer from its own source of illumination. But the eyes . . . It was the eyes, so blue, so pure, so filled with concern for her well-being that convinced Anna beyond any semblance of a doubt that what she saw before her was real.

"Hey," the figure whispered, her voice—_her voice!_—filling Anna with a happiness she had not felt in a year. "I'm back, Anna. I'm _back_!"

"Elsa . . ."

Anna allowed herself to fall into Elsa's embrace, for the moment content to pretend there was no villainous blue light, no mirror, no devilish voices to torment her and her family. All that mattered to her, in that instant, was that the Snow Queen of Arendelle—her _sister_—had, at long last, returned.

* * *

**AN: More to come!**


	4. Chapter 4: Resolve

**Closure**  
**or, Circuity**

**Chapter Four**

**Resolve**

"You . . . You look beautiful. As always."

Anna's voice rang in Elsa's ears as the queen beheld her younger sister within her arms. "I like your hair like this," Anna continued, her fingers moving through Elsa's free-flowing locks. "It's . . . different. You should . . . do that more often."

"Thank you."

Elsa felt her cheeks turn red in spite of herself, marveling inwardly at how Anna, as always, was able to find some way to shut out the chaos and danger swirling about just to make certain she was all right. It was Elsa's turn to move her hand, her fingers brushing lightly against Anna's abdomen. "As someone once said to me," she whispered, a smile upon her lips, "you look beautifuller. In a good way."

Her smile receded, replaced by grim determination. "I have to stop them now, Anna. Whatever happens, please . . . just stay here and rest."

"Elsa, no!"

Anna took hold of Elsa's shoulders, gripping them tightly. "Elsa, you . . . you can't! It's . . . it's _them_, Elsa! Your . . . Your voices! Somehow, they're . . . they're back and they're . . ." She glanced to the far wall, watching the blue light resting in the corner. "They're _real_, somehow. Like, _here in this room _real, and they'll hurt you again and—"

"It's okay."

Anna watched in stunned amazement as Elsa smiled at her. The queen's face betrayed not a hint of anxiety, not a shade of the fear and doubt that had plagued her, even on her best day, without end for so long. Rather, Elsa's face was filled with confidence, with purpose, with determination. "I won't let them hurt anyone ever again," Elsa said softly, rising. "I promise."

Elsa moved to the desk at the center of the study, her hand taking hold of Alúvelin's as she helped the empress to her feet. "Thank you, sister," Elsa whispered as she held Alúvelin tightly. "Thank you for taking care of Arendelle . . . of our family while I was away."

"Elsa?"

Alúvelin looked at Elsa in stunned disbelief, hardly believing her sister had returned. "What . . . What is this?" she whispered, her hands trembling in spite of themselves. "It . . . It was in my mind, Elsa! It _knew _things! Things it couldn't possibly know! I . . . I don't—"

Elsa brought a finger to Alúvelin's lips, gesturing for Valanda and Kristoff to join them. "I know," Elsa said. "Believe me, I know. I promise I will explain everything soon, but for now . . ."

Valanda took hold of Alúvelin, supporting the weight of her daughter upon her shoulders. .As Valanda led her daughter towards Anna to rest, to recover, Elsa looked at her brother-in-law standing next to her, her lips tightening as she saw him clutching his right arm, the limb dangling uselessly at his side. "You're . . . You're injured," she said softly.

Kristoff grimaced. "Good to see you again, Elsa." He winced as a flash of pain ran from his shoulder to his fingertips. "It's nothing," he said dismissively. "I've been through far worse. You know that. This? This is nothing I can't—"

_Well, well, well!_

The voices bellowed throughout the study, the blue light, having recovered from its shock at Elsa's entrance, daring to leave the corner of the room, to propel itself to rest just before Elsa's face. _The prodigal daughter has returned at last! _The joyless laugh echoed about the room. _We have so much to catch up on, oh yes, we do!_

The light swirled about Elsa, encircling her, analyzing her, studying her. _We cannot wait to see what is inside your mind this time, snow queen! It has been far too long, indeed!_

The image of Elsa pounding her fists against her head in misery and self-hatred while the voices tormented her without ceasing raced through Anna's mind. "Run, Elsa!" she whispered. "Please! Save . . . Save yourself—"

To the surprise of all in the room, Elsa simply _laughed_. Bending down, her eyes never wavering from the blue light floating before her, she took hold of the mirror resting upon the floor, holding it tightly within her grasp. "I have no interest in speaking with you," she said matter-of-factly, not a hint of concern or worry evident in either her voice or upon her face. "You have no power over me. Not any longer. It is time for you to leave."

_That _had done the trick. _You _dare _speak to us this way, snow queen? After all this time, you think you are free from us? You know better, dearie! You know what you are—_

"Yes, yes, yes."

Anna, Kristoff, Alúvelin, and Valanda looked at one another in astonishment at the utter indifference Elsa was showing to the voices. Her tone betrayed not a hint of doubt or concern; rather, she almost seemed _annoyed _with them. Elsa glanced briefly at the mirror, her hand moving over the cracks and fractures upon its face before looking at the light once again. "We've been through this so many times, you and I," she said. "'Freak! Abomination! Unholy! Monster!'" She brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, her hand coming to rest upon a pouch attached to the belt around her waist. "At a certain point, though, you have to admit, it just gets _old—_"

An inhuman roar tore through the study, the glass that comprised the windows shattering from the sound. _You think you are strong enough to resist us, snow queen?! You never were! You _never _were! The only reason you are still alive is because that bitch of a sister of yours came back from the dead on the fjord! Without her, you would have done what we commanded! You would have killed yourself! You know this! _You know this_!_

Elsa raised the mirror before her, her face devoid of fear entirely. "Like I said: It is time for you to go. Return to the mirror from whence you came . . . before I _make _you!"

The voices were incensed now, the light now almost blindingly radiant. _You dare presume to command us?! That is it, snow queen! We will punish you for your insolence! We will return to your mind once again! We will find every single fear, every nightmare, every terror you have ever felt, and we will make you live it again and again and again until you beg us to let you die!_

"Elsa! No!"

Anna screamed in terror as the blue light suddenly lunged forward, directly toward Elsa's head. A brilliant flash of silver and blue light overcame the study. As Anna rubbed her eyes, she gasped as she saw, to her astonishment, that Elsa had surrounded herself with a barrier of silvery light. The symbol on the back of her right hand, a triangle enclosed within a circle, glowed with an ethereal pulse as the blue light desperately tried to penetrate the barrier Elsa had created, the voices roaring with frustration.

"Something wrong?"

Elsa smiled slightly as she watched the blue light struggle. "I remember how terrified I was of you for all those years," she whispered. "Now, watching you struggle, I wonder just why I was so afraid . . ."

"Elsa," Kristoff said. "What are you doing? You probably shouldn't—"

_Damn you, snow queen!_

The light retreated to the other side of the study, slowly encircling the charred remains of the bookcase, ashes that had once been books and papers scattering about. _You think you can best us?! You _know _you cannot! Whatever petty tricks you have taught yourself these past few years are no match for us! Aha!_

The light moved to its right, hovering above what was left of the portrait that had been attached to the wall since long before Elsa had become the study's rightful mistress. _How tragic! _the voices cackled. The light swirled about the portrait, the force of its motion strong enough to fling the portrait across the room, the painting coming to rest by Anna's side.

Grimacing, Anna brought her head up to look at the image, crying out in dismay. The painting of her and Elsa's father, the former king of Arendelle, lay next to her. What little remained of the painting had been disfigured beyond recognition by the flame Alúvelin had inadvertently conjured. The edges of the portrait were charred and blackened, the oils that had been the foundation for the pigments liquified and melded together from the intense heat.

"Father . . ." Anna whispered, her hand cupping her mouth in stunned disbelief, her heart plummeting into her stomach as one of the few tangible links she and Elsa possessed to their pasts was now irreparably defaced.

"Anna . . . Elsa . . ."

Alúvelin hung her head, her weakened body threatening to collapse as Valanda quickly placed her arms under her daughter's shoulders for support. "I . . . I'm sorry . . . I didn't—"

The cackling and howling was now louder than Anna, Kristoff, Alúvelin, and Valanda had heard to this point. _Behold, snow queen! Behold, the perfect metaphor for what you have done to your father's legacy! Oops . . . _The voices' timbre grew even darker, more menacing, a feat Anna and the others would have considered impossible mere moments before. _We mean, your _presumed _father! Are you proud of yourself, snow queen? Are you pleased with how you, bastard daughter of the leader of the _ice bærers_, not even decent enough to have been conceived through natural means, have destroyed everything your sister's father worked so hard to build? You destroy everything and everyone you touch, dearie! Don't you? _Don't you?!

Impossibly, Anna felt her heart begin to disintegrate once more at the voices' assault upon Elsa's character. She turned her head toward Elsa, expecting to see her older sister's face twisted in misery and emotional distress, just as Anna had seen Elsa in situations such as this so many times over the years.

To Anna's astonishment, Elsa looked wholly unperturbed by the voices' words. Had Anna not known any better, she would have sworn Elsa was . . . _bored _by the proceedings. Still within her silvery barrier, Elsa merely shook her head, a sad smile tugging at her lips. "Do you honestly believe any of that is enough to break me? Do you expect me to cower in the corner again, cover my head, beg for you to stop?" She stepped forward, her ice blue eyes staring down the light across the room without trepidation, without fear. "I am my father's daughter," she stated, her voice calm, strong. "_Both _my fathers. Isarn's power flows through me, his might making me strong. And Father . . . _Agnarr_ . . ."

She glanced toward Anna, her eyes coming to rest upon the remains of the portrait. "We do not need a canvas to remember him by. Everything he taught me . . . Everything he ever did for me . . ." Her hand came to rest upon her breast. "I can find it right here. And . . ." She smiled widely as she gazed upon Anna's face. "And every time I behold my sister. So . . ."

She stepped forward again, her smile tightening into an expression of utter, unflappable confidence. "So, no, voices. I am Elsa, Snow Queen of Arendelle. I no longer fear you. Rather, I . . ." She paused, deliberately. "I _pity _you!"

Her words had the desired reaction. The blue light shot upward toward the ceiling, the voices now completely unhinged. _You?! Pity us?! You _dare _treat us like this, snow queen! We will assault you without mercy the rest of your days for your arrogance!_

"No."

The glow of Elsa's protective barrier intensified. "This is not arrogance. This . . . This is what _confidence _looks like. Something of which you know nothing about." She raised her right hand before her face, her fingers outstretched. "If you want me, come then. _Take me!_"

Screaming in fury, the blue light launched itself toward Elsa, faster than Anna thought possible. "Elsa!" she cried, horrified at what she feared was about to happen to her sister. "Elsa—"

Just as the light was mere fractions of an inch from Elsa, the barrier vanished into nothingness. In a single, reflexive move, Elsa brought the mirror before her face. The light realized what she was doing all too late. The light barreled into the mirror once more, screaming as it did so, prepared to launch itself out again, to strike the snow queen with all its might.

Elsa's right hand swung downward upon the surface of the glass. Silver, blue, and gold light erupted as her fingers made contact with the mirror. The screams vanished into nothingness, the blue light radiating from the mirror fading away, leaving nothing more than a simple hand mirror in Elsa's grasp, the cracks and fractures upon its face the only feature distinguishing it from any other mirror to be found in the world.

As silence descended upon the study at long last, Elsa turned to face Anna, Kristoff, Alúvelin, and Valanda, the four of them staring at the snow queen in disbelief, in utter confusion. "That . . . That should hold them," Elsa said after several seconds of awkward silence. "They won't be able to escape ever again."

The four stared at one another, unsure of what to do next. Finally, Anna pulled herself to her feet, Kristoff assisting her. Staggering forward, with Kristoff's assistance, she wrapped her arms around her older sister, pulling Elsa as close to herself as her pregnant form would allow. "Elsa . . ." she whispered. "You . . . You saved us . . . again! You're _here _again!"

"I know," Elsa murmured into Anna's ear, her hand caressing her sister's back. "I didn't mean to be gone as long as I was. I didn't think it would take this long to gather what I needed to stop them . . . but I'm _here _now, Anna. And I'm never leaving you again! _Never!_"

The sisters felt two other sets of arms wrap around them as Alúvelin and Valanda joined the embrace, the four women who had shared so many adventures over the years finally, at long last, together again. In that moment, there was no mirror, no voices, no violent blue light to worry about. Instead, there was only love . . . the deep, unshakeable bond found only among family. And for the first time in a year . . . for the first time in _forever, _Anna thought to herself, the palace that was their home felt _complete_ again.

* * *

**AN: I know I am deviating from my usual pattern in beginning this story almost _in media res. _I promise, an explanation is coming in the next chapter. The way the story needed to be told dictated this type of structure, however. I do appreciate your patience if you are confused.**


	5. Chapter 5: Interconnected

**Closure**  
**or, Circuity**

**Chapter Five**

**Interconnected**

"Ahem."

Anna, Alúvelin, and Valanda released their hold on Elsa, the four women turning to face Kristoff. His bearded face contorted in pain and confusion, his arm hanging limply by his side, he cleared his throat again. "Not that I'm not happy to see you again and all, Elsa, and . . ." He sighed, taking hold of Anna's hand with his own. "And, not that I'm ungrateful for you saving Anna and all, but I was wondering if you would mind telling us just _what the hell is going on_! I wake up to find my wife missing, hear her screaming from your study, find this blue whatever the hell it is attacking her, it attacks me, and Alúvelin, and Valanda, and . . ." He gestured with his uninjured arm. "Again: What's going on?!"

The newly returned queen regarded her brother-in-law for a moment before speaking. "I . . . I'm sorry, Kristoff. All of you. I . . . I know you all must have many questions, and I will answer them for you in a moment. I just . . ."

She inhaled slowly. "I just . . . I've lived with this for the past year. Every day I've spent trying to find the materials I would need to stop them, hoping and praying you all would be safe while I was gone . . ." A somewhat sheepish expression fell upon her face. "You have no idea how difficult it is to find Ingseth powder." She patted the pouch upon her belt. "It was the last thing I needed to seal them away. I had only just returned to Arendelle a few hours ago, intending to surprise you all, when . . ."

She frowned, her hands clutching one another as had been her habit for years whenever she felt anxiety or guilt. "I've asked myself every day since I left whether I made the correct decision in hiding this from you. I thought I'd convinced myself that I had, but now . . ." She shook her head, her brow creased from agitation. "Now, I'm not so certain."

Wordlessly, Elsa took hold of Kristoff's right arm. She moved her right hand over it, the symbol etched into the back of her hand glimmering briefly as she allowed her power to wash over Kristoff's injury, to heal it just as she had healed Alúvelin's broken arm once before. "There," she said softly. "That should . . . That should feel better."

Kristoff nodded at his sister-in-law, the pain in his expression now turned to appreciation. "Thank . . . Thank you."

"Elsa?"

Anna took a tentative step toward her sister, her eyes filled both with happiness for her return, as well as confusion. "I . . . I don't understand. You . . . When you left, you said you needed time away to recover from . . . from the pain of having to let Maíreweth go." She took hold of Elsa's hand, squeezing it tightly. "Why . . . Why didn't you tell us the whole truth? Why do you always feel the need to keep secrets from us . . . from _me_?"

Elsa's eyes filled with sorrow. "Old habits die hard, Anna. Even after all this time . . . Even after all I've done to try to become more open, I . . ." She hesitated, shaking her head. "No. That's not it at all. It's . . ."

She clutched the mirror tightly within her grasp. "It's because I was afraid you would be tempted to use this. That, like I wrote in your letter, Anna, you would try to harness its power for the best of intentions. Only for it to corrupt you, as . . ." She swallowed, her eyes shutting for the briefest of moments. "As it almost corrupted me years ago."

Silence descended upon the study once more. Kristoff, Anna, Alúvelin, and Valanda looked at one another, all four of them sharing the same expression on their faces: utter and complete confusion.

"Elsa."

Alúvelin spoke next, her voice trembling in spite of her best efforts to remain calm. "Elsa, you're not making any sense. What . . ." She pointed at the mirror, her hand shaking. "What _is _that thing? What are those . . . those voices that . . ." She bit her lip, willing herself to maintain control of her emotions. "Elsa, my mind was just violated by . . . _whatever _those were!" She gestured about the room. "All of our minds were. _Please!_"

Alúvelin's voice became soft, not dissimilar from that of a child whispering in the night, asking her mother to share her bed after experiencing a vicious nightmare. "Please, Elsa. Help us make sense of this. We . . . _I _need to know!"

Elsa stared into the faces of her four family members, the four people she loved more than anything else in the world. "Yes," she finally responded after several interminable moments. She glanced down at the mirror. "Before I . . . Before I finish this, I . . ." She shook her head, as if arguing with herself. "You're safe now. You are all entitled to an explanation." She closed her eyes once more, willing herself to be strong. "However . . . However painful it may be for me to share it." Opening her eyes, she led Anna to the chair behind the desk, helping her sister to sit, to rest her exhausted body. "I suppose . . . I suppose I should begin at the beginning . . ."

* * *

"I can still remember the moment I first heard them."

The study was illuminated by dozens of candles, luminescence provided courtesy of flame conjured by Alúvelin and Valanda. Kristoff stood behind the chair in which Anna was seated, his hands resting upon her shoulders, while her hands carefully cradled her belly, as if willing the child within to be protected from the outside world. Valanda and Alúvelin sat across from the desk, the chairs somehow, someway, having been spared the brunt of Alúvelin's unintended outburst of fiery death. Elsa stood in the center of the study, her voice soft yet firm in spite of the memories she now willed herself to relive.

"It was not long after I accidentally struck you, Anna. Not long after we returned from the healers. Not long after Agnarr . . . Father first locked me in my room, both for my protection and . . . and for yours."

She ran a hand through her flowing platinum blonde tresses. "It was then that they first came to me. I . . ." She shuddered involuntarily. "I will never forget what they sounded like. They were soft at first, like a whisper you barely hear. But they kept getting louder, and louder, and . . ."

She shook her head. "They appeared in my mirror. Like . . . Like an evil version of myself, they mocked me. Taunted me. Called me all sorts of terrible things."

Anna inhaled sharply. "In . . . In your mirror?" she whispered.

Elsa smiled sadly at her sister. "Yes," she said. "At first, I . . . I thought I had gone insane. That I was imagining things. But then, they . . . _it _reached out of the mirror and . . . and touched me." Her hand came to rest above her breast, her fingertips glowing blue of their own accord. "Right here."

She clenched her fist. "I didn't intend to do it, but the fear, the absolute terror caused me to unleash my power at them. The mirror . . . I shattered it into what must have been hundreds, maybe thousands of pieces. After that, I . . . I hid in bed the rest of the night, hoping that I had imagined it all." She frowned, her expression now haunted, as if gazing at something far in the distance in abject despair. "When I woke up the next morning, I saw that the pieces were gone. And I hoped that the voices had disappeared along with what was left of the mirror. As it turned out, I was not so fortunate . . ."

Kristoff furrowed his brow. "I . . . I'm not sure I'm following, Elsa."

"Please, Kristoff."

Elsa glanced down at the mirror, her expression now pensive. "I never asked Father what had happened to them. The pieces of the mirror, that is. I . . . I assumed for years that the servants had simply cleaned them up while I was still sleeping, that they had disposed of them. I had no reason to think otherwise."

She moved to the desk, carefully, expertly opening the top right drawer of the ancient furnishing. "And then, not long after my coronation, after the _ice bærers _came to live outside Arendelle, after Asgard's death, after . . . after Isarn . . ."

Her voice trailed off momentarily. Valanda's eyes grew moist at the mention of her beloved's name, Alúvelin gently patting her shoulder in a gesture of comfort.

Elsa continued. "I found Father's journal in here." Reaching into the drawer, she withdrew an old, leather bound volume, its pages weathered with age, with use. "Part of me wanted to lock it away, to honor his memory by respecting his privacy. But part of me also . . ." She smiled sadly. "I wanted to _hear _his voice again. If only in my mind. That's what I told myself at least, along with the fact that there were probably important details regarding our various allies listed in here, details I would need in order to rule effectively."

Anna folded her arms. "You never told me this," she said.

A pained look crossed Elsa's face. "Again, Anna, old habits die hard. Especially since . . ." She sighed.

"What?"

Anna was standing now, her hands reaching for the journal in Elsa's hands. "He was my father too, Elsa. I . . .I have just as much right as you to read it."

Elsa sighed. "I know that now, Anna. But again, at the time, I thought I was protecting you. Protecting your memory of him."

Anna shook her head. "You're not making sense, Elsa. Please. Stop speaking in riddles and just _tell _us . . . _me_!"

Elsa swallowed. "Obviously, Father did not plan on either of us finding this before he had time to . . . redact it. His and Mother's unexpected deaths, however . . ." She frowned, placing the book in Anna's hands. "You are welcome to read it if you wish, Anna. It is your right. I only ask that you not judge Father too harshly with regard to how he speaks of you . . . of _me _at times. These were meant to be his private thoughts. And he was only a man, doing the best he could in terrifying circumstances, after all . . ."

"What?!"

Anna opened to a random page near the center of the volume, her eyes widening as she involuntarily whispered the text aloud. _Today, Elsa told me she _knows_! She knows that I confessed to Iduna years ago that I did not know if I would have let her live had I known . . . what she is when she was born!_

The book fell from Anna's grasp, the shock overwhelming her, Kristoff helping her to sit down once more. "Elsa . . ." She looked at her older sister, stunned. "He . . . He really thought about this? About wanting to _kill _you?!"

Elsa grimaced. "Again, please don't judge him, Anna. I forgave him years ago, before he died. He _knew_ Isarn was responsible for what I am. He _knew_ he could have publicly disowned me, had our soldiers hunt Isarn and the rest of the _ice bærers _down and overwhelmed them . . . executed them, but . . . but he didn't. Whatever his flaws, however fleeting the thought may have been, he never acted on them. He accepted me, powers and all, as his own flesh and blood . . . as his _heir_." She walked to Anna, her fingertips brushing against her sister's cheek. "If that isn't honor . . . if that isn't _love_, then I do not know what they are . . ."

Clearing her throat, Elsa retrieved the journal from the floor. "However, there was something else that troubled me as I read Father's journal. Periodically, he would make reference to the 'sight.'" She flipped through the book, stopping as she found the desired page. "For example: _The sight came to me again today. It showed me Elsa as a young woman: what will happen to her if she cannot control her powers. I saw—dear God!—I saw her, surrounded by nothing but ice sculptures, sculptures of men I realized all-too-late were men she had punished for their offenses by turning them to ice itself! I saw her freeze a man to death before me for simply stealing a loaf of bread for his family! The expression on her face! She . . . She was _enjoying _it! I . . . I _will not _allow this to become of her! I will teach her to conceal her curse, to control her abilities. For the sake of Arendelle, I _will not _fail!_"

No one in the room knew what to say, how to react to such a revelation.

"You mean . . ."

Kristoff spoke, scratching his beard slowly. "You mean, all these years I've known you, part of the reason you have been so anxious, so terrified of yourself is because of what your father wrote about you?"

Elsa nodded. "Again, I am sorry for keeping this from all of you. I understand entirely if you are angry with me. You have every right to be. I just . . . I just didn't see the need to burden any of you . . ." She glanced at Anna. "Especially you, Anna, with this. You were so devastated when Father died, Anna. I could _hear _your cries and screams of misery from your bedroom, and I wanted so badly to come and comfort you, but . . ."

She shook her head. "You had already lost your father, Anna. What good would it have done if you had known this? You loved him so much, I couldn't let your memory of him be diminished in any way."

Slowly, Anna rose from her chair, her hands coming to rest on Elsa's shoulders. "Eight years ago, I would have been upset, Elsa. But . . ." She paused. "But now, having children of my own, knowing that there are things we all have done to keep Arendelle safe that I would rather Célebron and Élsaweth never know, I . . . I can't be angry with you. I understand. I mean, I _really _do."

Elsa smiled as she kissed Anna's cheek. "Thank you." Clearing her throat, she turned to face Alúvelin, Valanda, and Kristoff. "Anyway, like I said, I kept seeing references to something Father called 'the sight.' Always, this 'sight' would give Father premonitions, warnings even, of what would befall our family, Arendelle unless he acted accordingly. It was the sight that convinced Father to close the gates. It was the sight that warned him my powers had to be kept hidden at all costs. It was the sight that convinced him to take more and more frequent visits to our neighboring allies lest Arendelle's economy perish. It was . . ."

She paused, tears welling within her eyes. "It was the sight that told him that he and Mother simply _must _take the voyage that would be their last."

Anna inhaled sharply. _"What?!"_

Elsa nodded sadly. Turning to one of the last pages in the journal, she read: _The sight came to me again today. It warned me of the import of this trade settlement. Were I to fail to negotiate in person, the results would be . . . catastrophic. The sight has yet to steer me wrong, and I see no reason to doubt it now. Anna, as always, is ecstatic. She has always wanted me to bring back a dress from across the seas; how can I say "no" to her? God, how she brightens my weary soul!_

A single tear rolled down Anna's cheek, her father's voice somehow sounding in her ears, just as she remembered it.

_Elsa . . . Elsa is terrified, of course. She believes this voyage to be most unwise. It would be the longest I and Iduna have been away from her since . . . since . . . It matters not. She knows it would a sign of bad faith were I not to be present at this negotiation. I have instructed Andersen to keep close watch over her, to make certain she continues to work on her control. The man has never let me down before. I see no reason—_

Elsa stopped reading. "That's . . . That's where it stops. I assume he was interrupted by something that prevented him from . . ."

She closed the journal. "Anyway, having found repeated references to this 'sight' in Father's journal, I began trying to determine just what it was he was referring to. But not even Andersen knew what this was. I searched the ancient texts and writings of our fathers in the library for hours at a time, but nothing I found made reference to any sort of prophetic talisman or magic. And then . . ."

She smiled slightly at Alúvelin. "That is when Ar–" She swallowed at the name. "Arberish attacked the palace and sent us on our adventure where me met you, dear sister. And I forgot all about this 'sight' . . ."

"Elsa . . ."

Alúvelin regarded her sister, her expression filled with confusion. "You're throwing a great deal of information at us that must make sense to you, but I . . ." She threw up her hands. "I'm having a difficult time seeing how this 'sight' has anything to do with what happened in here tonight."

Valanda nodded. "I agree, _adamera_," she said quietly. "Maybe . . . Maybe, we should all get some sleep and continue in the—"

Elsa held up her hand. "I'm so sorry," she said. "I really am. But . . . But I don't know any other way to explain this because . . ." She ran a hand through her hair again, her face contorted with exasperation. "Because it's all _connected_! All of it!"

Kristoff glanced at Anna. "Am I . . . missing something here?"

Elsa took hold of Alúvelin's hand. "When . . . When you tortured me in the mountains . . ."

Alúvelin's lip trembled as the guilt for her actions washed over her once more.

"No," Elsa continued. "No, that's not my point! Please don't get upset! It's just that . . . When you brought the voices back into my mind once more . . . When Arberish gave me the antidote that sent them away again, they went somewhere . . . _different_!"

Anna rubbed her eyes in exhaustion, groaning as her child kicked her once more. "What do you mean, Elsa? What do you mean, 'somewhere different'?"

Elsa pointed to her head. "The first time I was able to dispel them, back on the fjord, I could _feel _them disappearing somewhere within my mind. But the second time, they didn't just vanish back into my mind again. This time, they . . ." She frowned. "It was like they went somewhere else entirely!"

She began pacing the room, her mind racing. "It's taken me this long to piece all this together precisely because it's been one adventure after another for us. Whenever I would begin to think about all these mysteries, my workload would increase and I would forget again. And then, after Anna and Kristoff were married and we went to the mountains again, we found you, Valanda! And then there was the quest for the jewels, and the _Maíreth_, and then . . ."

Her voice trailed off slightly as memories coursed through her mind. "And then Arberish died, and we found Maíreweth. And then we were off to the Southern Isles again, and . . ."

She turned to Anna. "I was correct in what I told you in my letter. I only began to piece this together precisely because, just before we left for the Southern Isles, I accidentally found . . . this in the desk's hidden compartment!"

She held the mirror before Anna, her eyes wide. "This . . . This is the cause of everything, Anna! The voices! Our suffering! Everything! If . . . If I'm right . . . and I _have _to be, I just _know _it . . ."

Anna and the others stared at the fractured face of the mirror, all too exhausted, too overcome by both their shared near-death experience and the excitement of Elsa's return to make sense of what Elsa was so certain was patently obvious. "Maybe . . . Maybe Valanda's right," Anna offered. "We all could use some sleep. Even you, Elsa." She rose, a sisterly smile on her lips. "We're going to lock the mirror up for the rest of the night, and then _you're _going to get some sleep in your own bed for the first time in a year, and then after breakfast we'll—"

But Elsa wasn't listening. Drawing the mirror before her face once more, she moved her hand over it. "Come to me. _Now!_"

Anna shrieked involuntarily as the blue light shot forth from the mirror once more, swirling within the mirror's cracked façade. In an instant, Alúvelin and Valanda's fingertips glowed with power, Kristoff's knife at the ready.

_That wasn't nice at all, snow queen! _the voices taunted. _You cheated!_

"Sorry," Elsa said flatly. "But you broke the rules. You attacked my family. You know the agreement we had made years ago. I let you attack my mind and mine alone. Not anyone else's."

The voices howled with fury. _When we are free, snow queen, we promise you, we will—_

"Unfortunately," Elsa continued. "I meant what I said earlier. I have no interest in speaking to you. I desire to speak to your master. You will show him to me. Now."

_Your master? _Anna thought. _Who in the . . ._ Her stomach tied itself in knots as a terrible thought crossed her mind. "No," she whispered. "Elsa, no! Don't . . . Don't tell me you think it's—"

_YOU DO NOT COMMAND US! _the voices roared. _YOU PRESUME TOO—_

Elsa dipped her fingers into the powder in the pouch upon her belt. "You. Will. Show. Me. Him. _Now!_"

With a cry, the Snow Queen slammed her hand on the mirror once more. In an instant, the blue light vanished, replaced with orange light that swirled, faster and faster, within the mirror, growing stronger with each passing moment until—

_No! _Anna thought to herself as a familiar face came forth from the shadows of the mirror into the light. _No!_

"Well," the face said. "_This _is a pleasant surprise!" From within the mirror, the group could see the figure bring a long cigar to his lips.

Elsa's eyes narrowed. "Hello again . . . _V _. . ."

* * *

**AN: I apologize for the fact that this is such an exposition-filled chapter. It's the only way I could think to piece this all together. Please, continue to be patient, as the full mystery will be revealed soon. If you are someone who has read every part of my "Voices" series, hopefully you will recognize and appreciate the connections that are being formed. More to come!**


	6. Chapter 6: Endgame

**Closure**  
**or, Circuity**

**Chapter Six**

**Endgame**

"Elsa!"

The man—what _looked _like a man, at least—in the mirror smiled broadly as he took a long, slow drag from his cigar. With a grand gesture, he doffed the fedora upon his head toward the queen. "So good to see you again! It's been how long from your perspective? A year?" He exhaled slowly, a ring of smoke circling his face. "Pardon my lack of certainty in that regard. So much to keep track of—"

Elsa glared at the figure in the mirror, her lips drawn tight. "This isn't a social call, V."

V laughed. The timbre of the sounds emanating from his throat sent chills down Anna's spine, causing her to involuntarily tighten her grip on Kristoff's shoulder. Her husband, for his part, tightened his grip on the knife within his hand, raising it before his face. The light pulsating from Alúvelin and Valanda's hands increased in intensity as well.

"Of course it isn't!" V chuckled. "I would hardly expect you and your merry little family of heroic do-gooders here to try to contact me solely to inquire as to how I've been doing." He puffed his cigar once more, the orange light surrounding him growing darker. "Really?" V raised an eyebrow as, turning his head within the mirror, he saw Kristoff, Alúvelin, and Valanda prepared to attack at a moment's notice. "You really think _you_ are enough to stop me should I choose to—"

"Stop bluffing!"

Elsa's voice was strong, firm as she rebuked the fallen Maíreth_. _"We both know you are no longer able to directly interact with anything beyond the Shadow Realm." A smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "You proved as much when we saw you in the Southern Isles. Élenway's seal still has you trapped."

For the briefest of seconds, V's eyes seemed to erupt with orange light, the product of unfettered rage coursing through him. The moment passed quickly enough. Arrogant as ever, V shrugged nonchalantly. "And yet, here I am, speaking with all of you now." He smirked, bringing a glass of amber liquid to his lips. "Clearly, my influence in your precious little world isn't as inconsiderable as you'd like to pretend."

"Elsa!"

The queen turned her head toward Anna, eyes widening as she beheld the terrified expression upon her sister's face. "Elsa, what are you doing?! Why are you talking to him?! This isn't a good idea—"

V laughed once more. "Your sister makes a very good point, Elsa. A very good point, indeed." He took another sip from his glass, the mirror within Elsa's hand rotating of its own accord until it faced Anna head on. "Someone's been keeping themselves busy," the Maíreth crowed as he beheld Anna's belly. He glanced at Kristoff, his wicked grin widening. "I am curious, I must say: How does she like it? Is she as proper about it as her title demands? Or does she like to _experiment_?" He sneered malevolently. "Not that I don't already know, of course—"

Before anyone could stop him, Kristoff snatched the mirror from Elsa's grasp. With a cry of fury, he hurled it across the room as hard as he could. The mirror collided forcefully with the far wall, falling to the floor. Standing over it, Kristoff felt his heart beat furiously within his chest. "What . . . How is it—"

The mirror lay upon the floor, face up, the glass that comprised its surface still contained within its metal shell. Not a single crack marred the mirror's face that did not exist before Kristoff threw it against the wall; if anything, some of the cracks had faded away, combining with those nearby.

V's laugh emanated from the mirror once more, louder this time, causing Kristoff, Anna, Alúvelin, and Valanda to step backwards, fear beginning to wash over them. "You think _that _is enough to destroy this?" V asked. "You have no idea what you are playing with!"

"You're right."

Elsa crossed the room, picking up the mirror, holding it before her face once more. The orange light reflected off her face as she stared V down. "They don't know. But I . . . I think I do. You just confirmed my long-held suspicions, I think."

V took another drag from his cigar. "Oh, I do _like _it when you try to outwit me, Elsa!" He sighed. "However, I think I'll leave now. I have many other pressing matters to attend to, and you . . ." He shook his head. "The only reason you summoned me was because you wanted my help in solving this mystery that has plagued you for almost your entire life." The orange light radiating from the mirror began to dim and fade. "But as I have no desire to confirm whether or not your suspicions are correct, I think I'll just—"

"Oh, I don't think so."

The orange light returned to its former strength as V stared at Elsa from within the mirror, an inscrutable look upon his face. "Are you . . . Are you trying to _command _me, Elsa? What makes you think I would want to—"

Elsa smiled confidently. "Because of your ego. You _want _me to figure it out. To realize just how brilliant you are." She raised an eyebrow at her adversary. "Don't try to deny it."

"Elsa . . ."

Alúvelin's voice rang throughout the study, her voice filled with worry for the dangerous game her sister was playing with the most powerful, the most malevolent force they had ever faced.

To the surprise of Elsa's family members, when V spoke again, his voice betrayed a hint of what—_It can't be! _Anna thought to herself. _Can it?_—they perceived as admiration. "Hypothetically," the Maíreth said, speaking slowly, deliberately. "If, in fact, I am guilty of everything you suspect I am guilty of, how long have you thought this?" His wicked grin was broader than ever. "When did you first suspect?"

Elsa clutched the mirror tightly. "When you and I first met, back in the Shadow Realm. Something you said to me then stayed with me long after we escaped, after you were sealed away forever." She reached into one of the pouches upon her belt, retrieving a small, white chess queen, holding it before the mirror. "You told me to always ask myself just what the long game is when facing an opponent," she said quietly. "And the more I thought about it after you said that, the more I—"

"Interesting," V offered. "But I'm losing interest here, Elsa. You need to speed this along. Even I do not possess limitless patience."

"Nor do I," Kristoff muttered to himself, his nerves and frustration for the circuitous route Elsa was taking to make her point trying his own patience.

"Kristoff!" Anna whispered, tugging on her husband's arm. "Let . . . Let Elsa talk! She knows what she's doing! I . . . I _know _she does . . ."

In spite of how softly Anna had spoken, Elsa perceived her words as clearly as if they had been whispered directly into her ears. Her spirit strengthened by her sister's confidence in her, the Snow Queen asked the question she had spent the entire year preparing to have answered: "This mirror . . . It was made from the fragments of the mirror in my room, wasn't it? The mirror I destroyed when your minions first came to me."

V cocked his head. "Of course it was. Did you really need my help to figure that out?"

"No," Elsa replied. "I . . . I've suspected as much since I found it in my desk a year ago. I just needed . . . confirmation . . ."

V snorted. "For what purpose, Elsa? Some sort of closure? Some sense that your entire life has been building up to this moment, that the interconnectedness of all these events are like beads on a string, each separate yet inextricably linked, rather than random occurrences with no higher order whatsoever?"

"Not exactly."

Elsa leaned in close to the mirror, her nose less than an inch from its face. "I think . . . I think you _chose _me, V. I don't know why, and I don't really care. But I think you chose me to suffer. That's why . . . That's why the voices . . . They were never just in my head, were they? They are some sort of malevolent spirits under your control, aren't they? Somehow, they ended up in my mirror, and . . . and when I destroyed it, I think you used them to influence Father to keep the fragments. To convince him that they were some kind of enchanted glass that could help him to keep Arendelle . . . and Anna safe from me. So he made this mirror out of them."

She ran a hand through her hair once more, her voice growing with confidence as she continued to speak. "This mirror is 'the sight,' isn't it? You . . . You used it to make Father see what you wanted him to see. To give him false visions of what would happen to me if I wasn't kept locked away. And after he died, even after the mirror was locked away, it was still under your control, wasn't it? You used it to learn things about all of us here in the palace . . . about _me _you couldn't possibly have known otherwise, even with all your power. When the voices left me for the second time, they retreated back into this mirror, didn't they? They had a connection to it, after all, and so it was only natural that they would . . ." She shook her head. "All this time . . . This thing . . ." She felt her hand begin to shake. "This terrible thing is what allowed you to bring so much pain and suffering to my family, isn't it?"

Anna, Kristoff, Alúvelin, and Valanda glanced at one another, utterly overwhelmed by the implications of Elsa's accusations. The study was silent once more as Elsa stared at the mirror.

At long last, the sound of clapping emanated from within the mirror. "Impressive!" the Maíreth said, taking a long drink from his glass. "And here I thought I was going to have to spoon feed it to you." He inhaled slowly. "Mirrors are such . . . useful things, aren't they, Elsa? Perfect for indulging in one's vanity, for example. Appealing to one's own sense of importance. Or, in some cases, more suited for serving as a visible reminder of everything one has lost." He smiled. "Something you know all about, after all . . ."

"Why me?"

Elsa's voice was little more than a whisper now. "Of all the people you could have chosen to spend so much time tormenting, why . . . why me?"  
V cackled. "Who's indulging their own ego now, Elsa? What makes you think there is a reason I picked you? For all you know, your entire life is just a series of cosmic mishaps and misfortunes, courtesy of dear old Daddy!" He gestured above his head. "Thanks a lot for that, Dad, by the way! I mean it! I'm _loving _it here, being trapped in the Shadow Realm! It's so damn _fantastic_!"

"No."

Anna released herself from Kristoff's grasp. Walking carefully, deliberately, taking care not to agitate her baby, Anna moved closer to Elsa, until she could see V's face within the mirror. "I . . . I don't believe you!" she said. "There is no way—_no way!_—everything that's happened to Elsa . . . to all of us is just random! That's . . . That's impossible! You . . . You know you chose Elsa on purpose! For a reason! Just be honest for once!"

V's brow furrowed, irritation written upon his face. "You know, I _really _don't appreciate your tone, young lady," he said. "You weren't even supposed to have _made _it this far! You should have—"

Anna recoiled, confused. "Wait. W– . . . What?!"

Elsa's eyes grew wide, the final piece of the puzzle clicking into place. "That's it, isn't it, V? The one thing you didn't count on. The one thing that you didn't see coming, even with all your abilities. The one thing that has saved me from giving in to everything you've thrown at me over the years . . ." She placed her hand on Anna's shoulder. "It's Anna! She . . . She's the one who destroyed all your plans!"

Anna looked at Elsa nervously. "Elsa, um, what? What exactly are you—"

V's patience was long since extinguished. His face was redder than Elsa had ever seen it before, his usual air of sophisticated indifference nowhere to be found, replaced instead with utter, blind rage. "Yes!" he snarled. "Your sister! The little slut here ruined everything! _Everything!_"

V was ranting now, uncontrollably. "You were going to be so useful to me, Elsa! Do you have any idea how _rare _it is to find someone born with such power as yours? The ice magic Isarn passed on to you combined with that ineffable something extra that you received from your mother—call it 'love,' call it 'will,' I don't care! You are the motherlode! Able to generate life itself, for God's sake! You were perfect! You were the greatest opportunity for me to take something so pure, so highly favored and corrupt it, twist it, use it for my own ends!"

He glared at Anna, spittle lining his chin. "You were supposed to have died that day when you were a child! Elsa was supposed to have killed you! That was what was _supposed _to happen! So when somehow, someway your idiot of a father found a way to heal you, I had to turn to another plan! I had to find another way to break Elsa, no matter the cost!" He turned back to Elsa. "So I unleashed my 'minions' as you called them, Elsa, on you. And they came so close. So _damn close _to succeeding! When your sister was frozen, when my voices had you ready to kill yourself, that is when I knew you were ready for me to intervene, to keep you from taking your own life, to offer you purpose now that everything you ever loved had been taken away from you because of the power your fool of a father misguidedly tried to have you suppress, rather than learning to control!"

His gaze shifted back to Anna once more. "And then _you _had to have the audacity to _come back to life_! I couldn't believe what I was seeing! I couldn't fathom how it was possible! How something as stupid and useless as 'love'—if that's even what it was—could undo everything I had worked for!" His rage subsided, his color returning to normal. "You can deduce, I assume, what happened next. I tried everything I could think of to disrupt your lives. And every single time, you were able to best me. Every. Damn. Time! Until finally . . . Until finally, I admit, I failed, and that bitch of a sister of mine sealed me away. To the point that I am reduced to . . ."

He smiled mirthlessly at Elsa. "Is that what you wanted to hear, Elsa? Does this finally bring you the closure you have so desperately desired in the depths of your soul for all these years?"

Elsa's face was emotionless, her gaze stoic. "Is . . . Is it true?"

V smirked. "You'll have to decide that for yourself, Elsa. You know me. There's always an angle. _Always_ . . ."

Something in the way V said that word sent alarms ringing in Anna's mind. "Elsa?" she said softly. "Let's . . . Let's end this now. Make him go away—"

V ignored Anna's comments, his gaze focused solely on Elsa. "You know, for someone like me, mirrors are more than just a reflective surface. They are a gateway, a method of crossing from one plane of existence to another. They make such useful conduits for lesser beings, like my voices, to engage with this world. And . . ." His voice became a mere whisper. "And . . ."

Elsa brought the mirror closer to her face involuntarily, her ears straining to hear V's ever quieting voice.

"And . . . Under the right circumstances, they can be used to circumvent certain . . . limitations that have been set by those who have no right to do so."

Anna opened her mouth to speak, to tell Elsa to let go of the mirror, but she was too late. In an instant, V's hand broke free of the mirror's surface, grabbing hold of Elsa's right shoulder. Startled, Elsa brought her hand to up to grip the arm, silver and blue light swirling from her fingertips as she fought with all her strength to release herself from V's grasp.

"Elsa!" Anna screamed.

With a cry, Kristoff, Alúvelin, and Valanda rushed forward. Fire and ice exploded from the women's fingertips. But the orange light surrounding the mirror repulsed the elemental magic, sending the fire and ice flying out the broken windows.

"Damn you, V!" Kristoff shouted. "Let go of her! Now!"

The mountain man brought his knife down upon the mirror with all his might. But the blade merely shattered the moment it made contact with the mirror, the shards that had once been the weapon falling uselessly to the floor.

The unseen force returned, hurling Kristoff, Alúvelin, and Valanda across the room.

"Elsa!" Anna cried again, reaching forward to aid her sister.

"NO!"

Elsa turned to Anna, her face twisted in pain from trying to keep V from escaping the confines of the mirror. "Anna! Get . . . away! Now! Please! For . . . For your baby's sake!"

Anna shook her head. "I . . . I can't let him hurt you, Elsa! Not after you've just come back to me!"

"Anna!"

Elsa's voice was suddenly calm, the pain gone from her face. In its place Anna saw calm, control. "Trust me," Elsa whispered. "_Believe _in me! I . . . I can do this!"

Anna wanted to argue, wanted to protest, but something in Elsa's expression caused her to pause. _Believe in me! _Elsa's words swirled in Anna's ears. _Believe in me!_

Nodding, Anna staggered over to where Kristoff, Alúvelin, and Valanda lay in a heap on the ground. Ignoring the pain from the kicks of her now-agitated baby in her womb, Anna knelt beside her husband and the women, her eyes fixated upon Elsa and V.

V's head had emerged from the mirror by this point, as had part of his left leg. Anna's heart sank as she watched Elsa unleash blue and silver light upon the Maíreth again and again and again in an unceasing cascade of elemental energy, but nothing she did appeared to be enough to repulse her attacker.

"Now do you see, Elsa?!" V cried out, his voice triumphant. "Now do you see just how you have failed to keep the big picture in mind? There is always an endgame, Elsa! You just have to be able to see as many moves ahead as necessary to determine how to bring it about!" He laughed viciously as Elsa appeared to falter, the blue and silver light growing dimmer, as she staggered backward, dragging V along with her.

"How bitter this must be for you!" V laughed. "Had you let your curiosity be, you would have never seen me again! I would have been unable to engage with your world! I would have been trapped in the Shadow Realm forever! But now . . . Now, once again, your own good intentions have brought destruction to all those you love!"

"No . . .!"

Elsa had given up fighting completely, the blue and silver light nowhere to be found. Overwhelmed by her guilt, by the sheer magnitude of her own failure, she fell to the floor, her hands covering her ears as she rocked back and forth as she had so many times over the years when anxiety and fear had consumed her entirely.

V had almost emerged completely from the mirror by this point. Both his hands rested upon Elsa's shoulders, his right leg still trapped within the mirror as he towered above the broken queen. "I was going to kill you, Elsa," he whispered. "But now . . . Now, I think, I will keep you alive, far beyond your natural span, so that you may watch helplessly as I destroy everything and everyone you hold dear. And then . . ." The malicious grin returned to his face, wider than ever. "Then, I am going to force you to watch the perfect circuity that is your life play itself out again and again, as every decision you have ever made has inevitably led to this point!"

"Elsa, no!" Anna cried. "Elsa!"

Elsa looked at Anna, a strange expression upon her face. She turned back to V. "You are right about one thing, V. It _is _essential to think about the endgame. To know your opponent. And . . ."

To V's consternation and bafflement, Elsa _smiled_. "And once again, you only see what you _want _to see!"

V roared in anger as he, the mirror, and Elsa were suddenly enclosed within Elsa's silver and blue protective barrier. Elsa stood tall, not a hint of fear or anxiety upon her countenance. "Excellent acting!" he conceded. "But it makes no difference! Nothing you can do can destroy me!"

Elsa glanced down at the mirror, V's leg still trapped within it, surrounded by orange light. "I'm not trying to destroy _you_, V," she stated, reaching into one of the pouches on her belt. She withdrew a small vial of amber liquid, holding it high. "Do you know what this is, V?"

V laughed. "As if I should care!"

Elsa smiled. "You should, V. This . . . This is Eldarish oil. A secret weapon of the _ice bærers_." She glanced down at the mirror. "Perhaps we should see if this mirror can withstand its heat . . ."

V's confidence melted from his face instantaneously. "Elsa! Elsa, let's . . . let's not do anything rash, shall we? Perhaps . . . Perhaps I have been looking at this the wrong way all along! We . . . We could be allies, you and I!"

"Not interested," Elsa replied nonchalantly. She reached for the cork stopper at the end of the vial.

"Elsa, wait!"

V's mask of calm was disintegrating rapidly. "I . . . I can be of such use to you! You want to see your adopted daughter again, Elsa? I can easily arrange that! If you let me go, I can help you become what she has become, let you live in the sea with her for as long as you wish!"

Emboldened, V continued. "Or I can request an audience with the other Maíreth! I can get them to bring anyone you wish to speak to from the halls of the righteous dead! As often as you want! Think about it, Elsa! You could speak to Isarn again! Or Jansarnen! Or your husband, Arberish!"

Anna, Alúvelin, Valanda, and Kristoff watched, terrified, from across the room as Elsa, to their horror, seemed to be considering V's words carefully.

"Or even your mother! Or . . ." V was desperate now, his eyes darting about, looking for something that would convince the Snow Queen to put the vial away. "Or what about your father, Elsa? He's the one person you've loved you've never been able to see after his death! I could bring him to you, Elsa! You . . . You and _Anna _could speak to him whenever you want! All you have to do," he gestured toward Elsa's hand, "is put that away and let me out." He smiled confidently at Elsa. "What do you say, Elsa? How about a new endgame for both of us?"

Anna heard Kristoff inhale sharply beside her. "She . . . She's not going to do it, is she? She . . . She wouldn't believe him . . ." He turned to Anna, his exhausted eyes filled with worry. "Is she?"

Anna looked at Elsa from across the room, staring deeply into the ice blue eyes of her older sister. "I believe in you, Elsa," she whispered. "End this. Now."

Elsa glanced across the room at Anna for the briefest of moments, a smile—a _real _smile—forming on her lips. Turning back to V, Elsa brought the vial before her face. "Go back to the Shadow Realm, V," she said, popping the cork off the vial with her thumb. "Checkmate."

The moment the fluid within the vial made contact with the air in the room, it combusted into a massive flame of fiery orange destruction. Kristoff threw himself on top of Anna, grabbing hold of Alúvelin and Valanda as well, pulling them close.

V screamed in rage as the flame, contained within Elsa's blue and silver spherical barrier, swirled about the two of them. The mirror on the floor began to shudder and buckle as the heat from the concentrated flame overwhelmed it. The orange light emanating from within shifted to blue, to orange, to blue, and back again over and over and over again as the fractured surface of the glass began to melt into liquid from the heat, as did the golden housing in which it rested.

Screams—horrible, terrifying screams—surrounded Elsa along with the swirling heat and rush of air from the massive fireball that engulfed her. Through the smoke and fire, she saw the swirl of blue light circle about her, desperately trying to escape her barrier. The voices were louder than ever, screaming at her again and again—_We hate you! We hate you! We hate you, snow queen! Damn you! Damn you!_—as, with one final wail they disintegrated into nothingness as the fire washed over the light. Elsa's body glimmered with blue and silver light as her power surged over her, protecting her from the deadly heat.

"Elsa!"

Elsa peered through the flame toward the source of the voice. An orange portal had opened within her barrier, pulling V inexorably toward its gaping maw.

His face contorted in utter hatred, V glared at her. "I almost had you, Elsa!" he screamed. "You cannot escape that reality! No matter what, I will always be there, doing everything I can to destroy you!"

Elsa shook her head. "Perhaps you will be, V. But you no longer have any way to directly influence my family. They . . ." She gestured toward her family across the room, her heart swelling with happiness. "You cannot corrupt them. Your influence is negligible. You . . . You have _lost_!"

Resigned to his fate, V ceased his struggle. As he was pulled fully into the orange portal, he removed his fedora, tipping it to Elsa. "Well played, Elsa," he said, his form disappearing into nothingness. "Well played . . ."

The orange portal vanished at the same time the flame that the Eldarish oil had produced finally died out. The terrible roar, the swirling wind dissipated, along with Elsa's protective barrier. Exhausted, the Snow Queen collapsed.

"Elsa! Elsa!"

Elsa's eyes fluttered open as she saw Anna cradling her in her arms. Smiling, the queen reached her hand up to Anna's face. "Hey!"

Anna laughed, her eyes filled with tears as she held Elsa in her arms. "Hey, yourself!"

Elsa looked about, not resisting in the slightest as Kristoff, Alúvelin, and Valanda sat next to her. _I no longer am afraid of being touched, _she reminded herself. _Not anymore. Not anymore . . ._

Looking at her family, seeing them safe, she wrapped her arms around all three of them, pulling them close. "It's over!" she murmured. "Finally . . . Finally, it's . . . it's over!"

* * *

**AN: More to come!**


	7. Chapter 7: Gift

**Closure**  
**or, Circuity**

**Chapter Seven**

**Gift**

Anna's eyes fluttered open, her hazy vision struggling for several moments to make sense of where she was. She was back in her own bedroom, lying in the bed she shared with her husband. From the window, she could see golden rays of morning sunlight streaming towards her. As she slowly sat up, she groaned as a fresh volley of kicks from her child assaulted her womb.

"You have _got _to stop doing that, sweetness," she said softly, her hand rubbing her belly, soothing the infant. "You're giving me nightmares, you know."

A torrent of images ran through her mind, images too fantastical to possibly be real. She remembered pain, terrible sounds running through her mind. She remembered seeing . . . _him _again; she shuddered involuntarily as his laugh, his terrible laugh, echoed through the recesses of her consciousness. And . . . And she saw someone . . . _her _. . . return, save her family from—

A knock on the bedroom door jarred Anna from her thoughts. Glancing at the empty half of the bed next to her, she yawned. "I'm up, I'm up, Kristoff," she called out toward the door as she brought herself to her feet. "It was really nice of you to let me sleep in, by the way," she continued, wrapping her robe around her nightgown as she walked toward the door. "I _really _needed it after the dreams I had last night." She yawned, reaching for the doorknob. "Sorry if I kicked you or anything in the middle of the night. I didn't—"

She opened the door, only to immediately slam the door shut once more in utter astonishment. _What . . . What the . . . No, it . . . it _can't _be—_

The knock sounded on the door once more. "Anna," came a voice . . . a _familiar _voice. "Anna, if this is how you say 'good morning' to people these days, I've been gone longer than I—"

Slowly, carefully, Anna opened the door, her eyes growing as wide as saucers as she beheld her older sister. Elsa's arms were folded, a playful scold upon her countenance as she looked at Anna. "Good morning, sleepyhead! How are you feeling today—"

"Elsa?!"

Anna took a tentative step forward, her trembling hand reaching forward to cup Elsa's chin, the coolness that was the sensation of Elsa's skin confirming beyond any shadow of a doubt that she was not imagining things, but that—

"Elsa, you're . . . you're back!"

Elsa staggered back slightly as Anna threw her arms around her, the extra weight the princess carried as a result of her pregnancy threatening to topple the Snow Queen of Arendelle to the ground.

"Sorry!" Anna said quickly, her cheeks red with embarrassment. "I . . . I forget just how fat I am sometimes, and—"

It was Elsa's turn to bring her hand to Anna's cheek, the coolness of her touch mingling with the warmth of Anna's skin. "I think the word you're looking for is 'beautiful,' Anna. Because that is what you are. I . . ." She beamed proudly at her younger sister. "I am so happy for you and Kristoff. As are the twins, in case you were wondering. That was all they talked about when I saw them this morning. How excited they are to have a new sister in their lives soon."

Anna shook her head. "Elsa . . . If you're here now, then that means . . ." A wave of panic washed over her. "That means last night . . . was . . . was _real _. . ."

Elsa's smile faded away. "Yes. Yes, it was." She turned away from Anna, inhaling slowly. "Anna, I'm . . . I'm so sorry I didn't tell you about the mirror. Like I told Kristoff, Alúvelin, and Valanda this morning when I apologized to them again, I . . . I really thought it was best if none of you knew. I was so worried that if you knew what it was, you would be tempted to try to use its power to find out what happened to me . . . that you would, like Father was, be betrayed by it. That you might even . . ." A shudder ran down the queen's spine. "That you might even become what I almost became, in my darkest moments . . ."

She shook her head. "But that's always been my greatest flaw. I worry so much about what happens to others that I take on burdens far greater than what I can carry." She turned back to Anna, a hopeful expression in her eyes. "I think . . . I think that, over this past year, living and traveling alone, I have finally learned what it is you have wanted me to learn for so long, Anna."

Anna raised her eyebrow in confusion. "What . . . What do you think that is, Elsa?"

Elsa ran a hand through her long, now unbraided hair. "That Isarn was right when he told me that I need to find the right balance between the needs of others and my own needs. That it is not selfish of me to take time for myself, to refresh every now and then. That the only way I _can _help those I love is by . . ."

She smiled as she took hold of Anna's hand. "Is by learning to love myself. Just like you said that night after I made the winter disappear. And now, I . . . I think I finally, honestly, can say that, yes, I _do _love who and what I am."

Elsa's eyes turned to the window over Anna's shoulder, her gaze moving to the waters just beyond the village. "I found Maíreweth, Anna. I was able to see her again before I came back."

"Really?"

Anna stepped forward. "Was . . . Was she . . . Was she happy?"

Elsa turned to look at her sister, her face filled with a pride, a joy unlike Anna had ever seen Elsa display before. "Happier than I have ever seen her. I spent an entire day on the shoreline on the edges of the Continent, Anna, watching her swim. You . . . You would have been so proud of her. She is not the scared girl we found hiding in the palace any longer. She . . . She is a confident young sea maiden now. She is where she belongs . . ."

Elsa brought her hand to yet another pouch upon her belt, her fingers retrieving something Anna could not make out, hiding the whatever-it-was in her palm. "As . . . As am I. _This _is where I belong, Anna. Everyone we have encountered over the years who has tried to convince me otherwise . . . I know now they are wrong. And now . . . Now that the Continent is finally safe from V forever, I . . . I _know_ we will have the peace we have all worked and sacrificed so much to achieve."

In that moment, Anna noted that Elsa had never sounded more regal, more certain of her station as queen of Arendelle and protector of the Continent. The princess's gaze was drawn to the pulsating blue light emanating from the ring on Elsa's finger, a ring that, hazy though her memories were, had not been on the queen's finger in the study the night before.

"The Eden-stone," Anna said softly. "Alúvelin gave it back to you?"

Elsa nodded, the fingers of her right hand brushing against the stone on her left. "I . . . I didn't ask for it, Anna. She just . . ." She shook her head. "She said it was never hers to wear in the first place. That even though it was her right as temporary queen, it never felt right to her." She breathed slowly. "I . . . I hope the gifts I brought for her . . . for everyone, actually, show just how much I appreciate all the four of you . . . and Andersen have done in my absence."

"Gifts?"

Elsa laughed. "Yes. I do apologize, Anna. Well, not really." A mischievous grin tugged at her lips. "What sort of aunt would I be, after all, if I did not bring back presents and toys for my niece and nephew?"

Anna's face grew pale. "Please, tell me they don't make noise! Please, Elsa . . ."

The Snow Queen's mischievous grin grew even wider. "I make no such promises, Anna."

Anna threw up her hands in mock indignation. "Oh, _I _see how it is! You get to go off and have your big back on the throne meeting with your ministers soon, and Alúvelin and Valanda get to join you. Meanwhile, Kristoff has to 'go to work,' even though we have enough ice to last us an entire year stored up in the cellar, leaving me—pregnant, soon to give birth _me_, thank you very much!—to deal with my hyperactive children and a bunch of noisemakers!"

Elsa winced. "Sorry . . ."

Anna grinned. "Oh, I'm just playing with you, Elsa. You know that."

A strange look formed on Elsa's face. "I . . . I know." She glanced down the hall, satisfied that none of the palace guards, none of the servants were aware of their presence. "Come on!"

Grabbing Anna's arm, Elsa pulled her younger sister back into the bedroom. "Elsa? What . . . What are you doing? Don't you have work to—"

"Shh!"

Elsa brought her finger to Anna's lips. "I'm the queen, remember? I can be late to a meeting if I have a good reason. I've already been gone a year, after all? What harm will a few more minutes do?"

Anna frowned as Elsa moved to the windows. Drawing the drapes, Elsa glanced around, taking care to make certain the room was dark, quiet. "Elsa? I don't—"

Elsa turned to her younger sister, her eyes wide, filled with excitement. "I meant what I said, Anna. I brought gifts for everyone. Even . . . _Especially_ for you!"

Anna felt her cheeks turn red once more of their own accord. "Oh, Elsa. You . . . You didn't need to get me anything! Really! Just . . . Just having you back again, for real, is enough for me."

Elsa grinned. "I thought you'd say that. Even so, Anna, I . . . I want you to have this."

Anna's brow furrowed in confusion as Elsa opened her palm. Resting upon her hand was a vial, similar to the one that had held the Eldarish oil she had used in the night to destroy the mirror. This vial, however, was filled not with liquid, but with what appeared to be swirling, silvery vapor. "I . . . I don't understand, Elsa. What . . . What _is _this?"

Elsa brought the vial before her face, her voice low, hushed. "Something that rightfully belongs to you. Something that _never_ should have been taken from you in the first place."

Before Anna could ask any more questions, Elsa uncorked the vial. The silvery vapor exited the vial, swirling about slowly, moving about the room as if searching for something . . . someone. As the vapor moved closer to Anna, the princess felt her heartrate increase as the silvery light grew brighter, more intense. The vapor stopped before Anna's eyes, its radiance causing Anna to squint involuntarily. "Elsa . . .?"

"Trust me," Elsa whispered. "Do . . . Do you trust me, Anna?"

Anna looked past the light, past her own uncertainties and fears, into her sister's eyes. She knew the answer without even having to contemplate a response. _"Yes!" _she murmured.

"Good," Elsa responded, the symbol etched into the back of her right hand growing brighter by the second. The Snow Queen brought her hand to the level of Anna's brow, the silvery vapor coalescing around her fingertips. Gently, delicately, Elsa moved her hand through the mist, her fingers coming to rest upon Anna's forehead. The light was almost blinding now, Anna's vision entirely obscured by the whiteness until—

* * *

Anna blinked. She was somewhere dark, somewhere alien yet . . . yet still _familiar. _Squinting, the princess attempted to see through the inky blackness surrounding her. "Elsa? Elsa?!"

"I'm here."

Indeed, Elsa was there, standing at Anna's right side. Anna ran a hand over her belly, a chill moving over her in spite of the warmth of her robe. "Where . . . Where are we, Elsa? I . . . I don't—"

Elsa simply smiled. She moved to stand behind Anna, her hands resting on her younger sister's shoulders. "Just . . . Just watch!"

Anna inhaled sharply as, without warning, blue light emanated from something in the center of the room. Recognition dawned on Anna's face as she realized where she was. "This . . . This is the ballroom," she whispered. "Why . . . I don't understand . . ."

_Elsa!_

Anna felt her heart skip a beat as, before her eyes, she saw herself, her _five-year-old_ self standing in the ballroom. _What . . . What _is _this? _Anna thought to herself. _I . . . I don't—_

_ Boo!_

Five-year-old Anna burst into laughter as, from behind one of the suits of armor lining the wall, the figure of an eight-year-old Elsa jumped out. The younger princess giggled, clapping her hands over and over again as her older sister advanced toward her. _You don't scare me, Elsa!_

Young Elsa laughed as she stood before young Anna. _Really? Because you certainly _seemed _scared, you little stinker you!_

_ Was not! _pouted Anna. _I was just playin' to make _you _feel better! Honest!_

A single tear fell down older Anna's cheek as she beheld the merriment before her. "I . . . I don't remember any of this!" she whispered. She turned to Elsa, confused. "Is this . . . Is this just another dream?"

Elsa shook her head. "No, Anna. _Watch!_"

_Do the magic! _Young Anna was stomping her feet now, impatiently. _C'mon, Elsa! Do the _magic_!_

It was young Elsa's turn to pout. _I . . . I don't know if I want to now. How do I know you _really _want it?_

_ ElsAAAAAAA!_

Young Anna's lip trembled. _I'm sorry I hurt your feelings. You . . . You _did _scare me, Elsa!_

Young Elsa laughed. _Oh, Anna! I'm just teasing you! Here . . ._

Young Anna squealed with excitement as Elsa's right hand glowed with blue light. In a matter of seconds, a large snowflake rested in her palm, each fractal perfectly formed, the crystalline structure totally free from blemish. _Here, Anna! _Elsa said, offering her creation to her sister. _This is for you!_

_ Oh, Elsa, I _love _it! _young Anna cried. _It's so . . . so byoo-tee-ful!_

Older Anna turned to Elsa, tears now flowing freely from her eyes. "This . . . This is one of my memories, isn't it? One of my . . . my _real _memories!"

Elsa nodded. "Yes. Yes . . . it is!"

Anna shook her head in astonishment. "How . . . How did you find this? I thought . . . I thought you said the healers took them away. Forever!"

Elsa sighed. "They did. But I . . . I was able to find the last of their kind a few weeks ago. It took months of searching, Anna, but . . . but I found her. And she . . . She recognized me before I even spoke to her. Knew what it was I desired before I even asked. It was almost as if . . . as if I was _meant _to find her when I did. Like she was _meant _to return your memories to you only after everything we have been through . . ."

Anna turned back to the scene before her, her heart practically melting she saw her younger self and younger Elsa playing in snow that Elsa was conjuring with reckless abandon. Squeals and cries of delight emanated from the two girls as they hurled snowballs at one another, as they leaped from mound to mound to mound of powdery softness, as they ice skated across the now frozen ballroom floor, dancing and moving as one . . .

"It's . . . It's beautiful!" Anna murmured. She turned back to Elsa, utterly incapable of finding words that would be adequate to express how she felt. "I . . . I don't know what to say, Elsa! This is . . . This is the greatest gift I could ever receive! I . . . _Thank you_!"

Elsa took hold of Anna's hand, squeezing it gently. "You _never _have to thank me for anything, Anna. Ever. I meant . . ." She closed her eyes. "I meant what I said to V before I destroyed the mirror. You are the reason I am the _good _person that I am. You are the reason I did not fall to the darkness inside me years ago. Like . . . Like you used to say, I am the moon and you . . ." She brought her fingers to Anna's chin. "And you are my sun."

Anna smiled as Elsa kissed her forehead, her mind suddenly filled with countless memories similar to the scene playing out before her. It was as if something was making its rounds through her mind, opening doors that had long since been locked, dusting off drapes that had not been cleaned in decades. "I . . . I can _feel _them now, Elsa," she whispered. "I can remember everything now!"

Elsa smiled. "Then let's . . . Let's remember all of them, right now. Together."

Anna frowned. "But . . . But Elsa, what about your meeting? Shouldn't . . . Shouldn't we—"

"Like I said," Elsa replied, her eyebrow raised. "I'm the queen. I can be wherever I want, with whomever I want. And right now, in _this _moment, the only place I want to be . . ." She squeezed Anna's hand once more. "Is with _you_ . . ."

* * *

**AN: This chapter is the entire reason I decided to write this story, to finish this saga. My entire purpose (unlike what Disney gave us in _Frozen II_, but that's another story) was to give Kristoff and our ladies, especially Elsa and Anna, the happiness they finally deserve. Hopefully, this chapter has helped to do just that. More to come; not much more, but more to come!**


	8. Chapter 8: Resignation

**Closure**  
**or, Circuity**

**Chapter Eight**

**Resignation**

**Six months later . . .**

"Your . . . Your Majesty?"

Elsa looked up from her desk in the study at the sound, a wide smile forming upon her lips as she saw just who was standing at the doorway. "Minister! Please . . ."

Rising, the queen made her way to the door, taking hold of Minister Andersen's hand. Carefully, delicately, she helped the aged chief minister of state to the chair before her desk. "Here," she said, helping him to sit down. "Allow me."

Andersen allowed the queen to assist him, his right hand trembling as he took hold of the armrest of the chair. "For– . . . Forgive me, Majesty, for the intrusion. I trust you have much work to do at the moment."

Elsa waved her hand dismissively as she sat behind her desk once more. "Please, Minister. You are not intruding upon anything, I can assure you. I . . ." She bowed her head respectfully toward the old man. "I can always make time to speak with you, after everything you have done for Arendelle. For Anna . . . For _me_."

The old man shook his head, his voice quavering as he responded. "I . . . I appreciate your kind words, Majesty. But I must say, my own role in the present thriving of our land is quite minimal. Rather, the credit must go to you and your family. I . . . I am just a frail, old man, after all, and—"

His voice trailed off as a violent coughing fit overwhelmed him. Grimacing in pain, Andersen waived Elsa away as she stood to help, his face turning red. After several interminable seconds, the minister swallowed. "I . . . I apologize, Majesty . . ."

Elsa moved before her desk, gently taking Andersen's weathered hand in her grasp. "You know that isn't true, Minister," she said quietly. "You are the one who taught me everything I know about politics. How to be the queen our people need me to be. Who . . . Who kept my secret for so long, even after Father died. You defended me after my powers were exposed, when almost every other minister in our government . . . when Hans wanted me executed. You have always been my most loyal and trusted counselor. I . . . I can never repay the debt Anna and I owe you, Minister. Never . . ."

It was Andersen's turn to bow his head toward his sovereign. "You . . . You flatter an old man, Majesty. It . . . It was always my pleasure, Majesty . . ." He paused, his eyes suddenly moist. "Elsa," he said. "May . . . May I call you 'Elsa,' Majesty?"

Elsa nodded, her own eyes growing moist as she took note of the piece of paper within Andersen's grasp, the seal of his office next to his signature at the bottom of the page. "Of course you may," she said.

"Thank you," Andersen replied. He looked about the study, decades worth of memories meandering through his consciousness. "I . . . I am most please, Maj– . . . _Elsa_, that you have decided to make some changes in here."

"Oh."

Elsa's cheeks grew red with mild embarrassment as she glanced about the newly refurbished study. In the wake of the fire that had consumed the entire far bookshelf, much of the furniture, and countless items that could never be replaced, Elsa had decided to finally, at long last, have the entire study refurbished.

"I . . ." Elsa paused, searching for the right words to describe what she was feeling. "I hope you do not think I am being disrespectful to Father's memory, Minister, but I . . ." She swallowed. "I think so much of my energy was spent for so long trying to honor Father and Mother's memories in the wrong way. By trying to preserve as much as I could of them precisely as they left it. By not being as open to new possibilities, new ideas as I should have been." She sighed, her eyes moving about the room, taking in the new drapes, the new furniture, the new arrangement of shelves and other furnishings that more closely suited her own personality.

Andersen nodded. "Of course not," he replied. "Change, however uncomfortable, however painful it may be at times, can most certainly be a good thing. And . . ." He glanced up toward the far wall of the study, toward the empty space where the portrait of the King had once hung. "And, if I may be so bold, Elsa, I . . . I truly believe your father would approve."

Elsa felt the moistness in her eyes begin to run down her cheeks. "Thank you, Minister," she whispered.

Andersen coughed once more, not as violently this time. "Your father once told me, in one of the last conversations we had before he and your mother . . ." He rubbed his eyes, the exhaustion of a lifetime of service to his homeland weighing heavily upon him. "He told me he knew you were special. That you were just like a caterpillar who needed time in its cocoon to grow, to become the beautiful butterfly he knew you were destined to be." He smiled, wrinkles cascading over his worn countenance. "He was right. More than he ever could have known . . ."

Elsa swallowed, memories of her fingers caressing the frozen form of a butterfly long, long ago washing over her as her father spoke to her. _You will become a beautiful butterfly, Elsa. And when the time is right, you can spread your wings and soar . . . _

She shook her head, clearing her mind. "You've reached the age under which our code requires . . ." She stopped herself, berating herself mentally for speaking so formally over such a delicate matter. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to insult you. I just . . . I mean, I . . . I suppose you are here for . . . to give me your . . ." _Why am I having such a hard time saying this?_

Andersen carefully handed the paper in his hand to Elsa, a sad smile upon his face. "It is time, Elsa," he said. "I . . . I do not know how many more years . . . or days, for that matter, I have left, and I . . . and I wish to spend them resting." He looked up at her. "Of course, I will abide by your wishes and serve you as you desire. That was the oath I swore decades ago when I first became a minister of the 'Delle. And . . . And if you want me, I—"

"No."

Elsa brought her fingers to her lips, her cheeks turning red once more. "That is, of course I would love for you to remain at your post, no matter what our laws may say. But I . . . But I cannot deny you this request. You . . . You have earned the right to retire, Minister. It would be cruel of me to refuse you." She brought her hand to her chin, thinking carefully. "I assume . . . I assume, Minister, you have someone in mind for your successor."

Andersen nodded. "I do. Although it is only a recommendation, nothing more. You may do as you wish, but . . ." He smiled slightly. "If I know you as well as I believe I do, Majesty, you will agree with me that he is the only logical choice."

Elsa nodded. "Indeed. He . . . He was once such a thorn in my side, but . . . But I believe everyone deserves a second chance. Just like you . . . you convinced the other ministers to give me after I froze Arendelle. And while he is still arrogant, still far too sure of himself at times, he . . . He has redeemed himself over the years in my eyes." Her lips turned slightly upward, a pensive expression upon her face. "Perhaps some caterpillars just need longer in the cocoon than others. Like . . . Like I did . . ."

She closed her eyes, reaching for the coldness deep inside of her, allowing it to wash over her, to clear her mind, as Isarn had taught her years earlier. Opening her eyes, she sat behind her desk once more, pen in hand. In the space below Andersen's signature and seal, she began writing, reading her words aloud as she did so.

"In . . . In gratitude for decades of unimpeachable service to the kingdom of Arendelle, I, Queen Elsa, hereby release you from all oaths, all bonds, and all obligations of your office. Further, effective immediately, I bestow upon you title of Chief Minister of State Emeritus, with all associated rights and privileges hereby granted unto you. May your retirement be long and filled with all happiness and peace." She paused momentarily, thinking. "With sincerest thanks and . . . and love. Your queen . . . Your friend . . ."

Elsa hastily scribbled her signature upon the paper, affixing her royal seal before she could change her mind. "There," she said quietly, handing the paper back to Andersen. "It is official now. You . . . You are free, Min–"

She caught herself, blood rushing to her cheeks, the lump in her throat making it difficult to speak.

Andersen rose slowly, bowing as low before her as his tired form would allow. "Thank you, Maj–" It was his turn to catch himself. "I mean, Elsa."

Elsa shifted uncomfortably in her chair. "I . . . I just realized something," she said quietly. "It's . . . I've known you all my life, and yet . . . Yet I don't even know your first name."

Andersen smiled. "Understandable. You have always been so cognizant of protocol, after all, with all your ministers."

She stood, looking into Andersen's eyes. "What is your name?" she asked softly. "Now that you are retired, I cannot call you 'minister' any longer. It would be . . ." She shook her head. "It would most certainly be against protocol for me to do so."

Andersen looked away. "I . . . I would rather not say, Elsa. My name is far too tainted in the minds of you, Her Highness, Sir Kristoff, Empress Alúvelin, and Lady Valanda to reveal it to you now. Another who shares it . . . _shared_ it did far too much during his life to destroy any honor that name may have ever possessed."

Elsa's brow furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean? I . . ." Her eyes widened. "Oh. _Oh!_"

Andersen nodded sadly. "I have not allowed anyone to address me by that name since he came and first revealed who he really was. When he tried to usurp your throne. When he tried to . . ." He coughed again, loudly. "It matters not. What's done is done. His shame is mine, as well it should be. I . . . I should have done more to stop him, Elsa. I . . . I never should have let him—"

"No."

Elsa placed her hands gently yet firmly on Andersen's shoulders. "Do not do this to yourself, Minister. Do not do what I have done for so long. Do _not _blame yourself for the choices of others. You are _not _him! You could never _be _him! While he besmirched your name, you have brought it nothing but honor. Our people will remember you long after both of us are gone. Your name will cause people to recall only goodness and courage, love of others before self."

She was crying now, and she did not care. Carefully, she wrapped her arms around the old man, holding him close. "When I was young, I wanted to do this to you so often! When Father and Mother died . . . When I kept myself locked away, I . . . I wanted so badly to touch you, to hug you, to thank you for teaching me, for looking after me and Anna as if we were your own." She glanced down at her hands, her hands that, concealed by gloves for so long, were now exposed, free. "Thank you . . . _Hans_! Thank you for everything!"

Andersen smiled. "Majesty . . . Elsa, I . . . I never married, never had children of my own. My first obligation was to our land, our people . . . my sovereign." His trembling hand came to rest upon Elsa's cheek, his eyes filled with pride. "But . . . But if I had ever had daughters, I . . . I would be unspeakably proud if they would have turned out like you and Her– . . . and Anna."

Elsa kissed Andersen's brow as delicately as she could before carefully helping the old man to the door. "Goodbye, Hans," she said softly. "Godspeed . . ."

Andersen nodded. "Shall . . . Shall I send Minister Ingeborson to speak with you before I depart?"

"Yes," Elsa replied. "I believe it would be most prudent to inform him of his new position as quickly as possible." She smiled. "Although, I suppose I _could _let him sweat it out for a few days. Make him think I've given it to someone else . . ."

Andersen laughed. "Remember, Elsa. We catch more flies—"

"With honey," Elsa finished for him, the lesson the old man had drilled into her mind as a child coming to her tongue instinctively. A thought came to her mind. "Don't plan on going too far away from us just yet, Hans. The entire kingdom will celebrate your service with a grand ceremony and dinner in the coming days. You have earned that privilege and—" She raised her hand, silencing Andersen's protestations. "And I will not take 'no' for an answer."

Andersen nodded. "Thank you, Elsa." He turned to depart, pausing as something occurred to him. Turning back to Elsa, he smiled. "Oh, one more thing. I have been informed that the portrait you commissioned is finished." He glanced at the large empty space on the wall of the study where the portrait of King Agnarr had once been hung. "It can be installed this very day, if you would like."

Elsa felt a thrill of happiness course through her being. "Of . . . Of course!" she said. "That would be perfectly fine. I am finished with my work for today and . . ." She breathed slowly, a sudden desire coursing through her soul. "And I have something I need to do at the moment, so they are more than welcome to hang it now."

Andersen bowed before her. "My Queen."

Elsa curtseyed before him, trying her best not to cry again. "Minister."

As Andersen left the study, making his way down the corridor, Elsa turned to the empty space on the wall, her eyes filled with longing. _Oh, Father. I hope you are proud of me. I . . . I just wish there was some way I could _know_ . . ._

Her finger brushed against the two rings on her hand of their own accord. The signet ring Isarn had given her glistened as blue light swirled from the Eden-stone. The light coalesced into the figure of a beautiful, blue woman. _I am going to miss him, Elsa._

Elsa turned to her companion. "I know, Elenórathem," she responded. "As will I." She turned her attention back to the empty space on the wall. "Nothing ever really stays the same, does it? As much as we try to convince ourselves that things can be permanent, change is inevitable."

_Perhaps._

Elenórathem put her hand on Elsa's shoulder, a smile on her face. _But if you are honest with yourself, Elsa, do you really _want _things to remain the same forever? What good is a seed if it never grows? What good is a student who never learns? Growth and change are healthy. And you have so much to be thankful for, Elsa. Would you want to be the same terrified young woman you were when you first became queen forever? Would you throw away everything you have learned over the years, in the midst of all the joy and suffering you and the others have endured? Do you honestly believe you would be better off that way?_

Elsa paused, contemplating the water spirit's words. "I am so fortunate to have so many wise, loving people around me," she said softly. "And even if . . . Even if the day were to come when Alúvelin and Valanda decide to leave, to find a new homeland for their people . . . Even if the day were to come when Anna and I were no longer together, I . . . I know now that our love will bind us forever. Because that . . . That is what family means."

She shook her head, clearing her mind of such thoughts. _Family . . ._ "Come with me," she said to the water spirit, gesturing toward the door. "There is something I want . . . no, I feel I _must _do now . . ."

* * *

**AN: Sigh. I had really hoped I could have had this entire story posted before _Frozen II_ was released. Unfortunately, the perfectionist in me saw the need for rewrite after rewrite. So yes, through sheer coincidence, a number of themes I have written into this story—change and its inevitability, in particular—happen to have been used in the new film. Oh, well. More to come!**


	9. Chapter 9: Sign

**Closure**  
**or, Circuity**

**Chapter Nine**

**Sign**

"Hey."

Elsa looked up, smiling as she saw her sister approaching, her arms carrying something small . . . something precious.

"Hey, yourself," she replied.

Anna held the infant within her arms to her breast, the child inhaling slowly as she slept, swaddled in blankets of blue and silver. Careful not to wake the babe, the princess of Arendelle stepped forward, kneeling beside Elsa upon the soft, warm grass. "Valanda said she saw you head this way an hour ago," Anna whispered. "Everything . . . Is everything all right?"

Elsa nodded, her fingers reaching out to caress the baby's head. "Yes," she said. "And how is my niece today?"

The child sneezed, a flurry of snowflakes cascading around her head. Anna looked at Elsa, shrugging her shoulders. "A tad temperamental," she said. "A bit cranky." She poked Elsa in the shoulder. "Just like her aunt can be at times."

Elsa crossed her arms. "I'm hurt!" She leaned forward, her lips close to the slumbering child's ear. "Don't tell your mother, Iduna," she whispered. "But between you and me, you _really _get it from her!"

Anna pouted. "If I hadn't just spent the past hour _finally _getting Iduna to sleep, I would so yell at you right now," she whispered.

Elsa held up her hands. "All right, all right." She exhaled slowly, taking in the monument before her, her heart suddenly much heavier.

"Elsa?"

Anna's voice was soft, filled with concern. "What . . . What is it? Why are you here?"

"I . . . I don't really know," Elsa replied. "I . . . I just . . ." She ran a hand through her flowing locks. "I just wanted to _talk _to them again. But I . . . But I'm having a hard time coming up with the words right now."

Anna nodded. "I . . . I understand," she said. "A lot . . . A lot has changed for all of us over the years." She put her free arm on Elsa's shoulder. "Andersen told me he was retiring before he went to see you, Elsa," she said. "Is . . . Is this what this is about? What has you feeling this way?"

Elsa closed her eyes. "I think . . . I think I'm just . . . nostalgic, perhaps? It's so easy, isn't it, to look back, to wish that things could be like they once were, back when they were simple . . . or at least, simpl_er_."

"Like when the most we had to worry about was who was going to win our evening snowball fight in the ballroom?" Anna asked, a warm feeling washing over her as her restored memories danced in her mind.

"Exactly," Elsa said. "Or . . . Or as terrible as this makes me sound, back when it was just the two of us, Anna. Right after we stopped Asgard the first time. Back when it was just you and me and Kristoff, and we spent all of our free time making up for all the time we had lost when we were children. Back when there were no sacred jewels to protect, or threats from across the mountain, or Maíreth to worry about, or pirates, or . . . or any of that."

Anna thought for a moment. "Those were wonderful times, Elsa," she said. "But . . . But just think about how much more wonderful it is to have Alúvelin and Valanda, and your nieces and nephew, and all the other people you've helped and saved over the years. How much more peaceful our entire Continent is because of you. Yes, there have been sad moments. Yes, there has been suffering. But . . . But in the end, wasn't it all worth it?" She paused, fearing the response her sister would give. "I think it was, at least."

Elsa did not respond, her gaze fixated upon the monument. Anna sighed. "Do you think I don't feel the same way at times, Elsa? I'm . . . I'm afraid, I'll admit it, that I am going to wake up one day and my children are going to be all grown up and . . ." She paused. "And then they won't need me . . . won't want me anymore, and I'll . . . I'll just sit there, wondering to myself just how I could have let the time go by so quickly without appreciating it." Holding her infant close, she continued. "But that fear doesn't stop me from loving what I _do_ have. You don't know the future, Elsa. None of us do. All we do know is what we have right now. Please. Don't . . . Don't miss out on it with us!"

When Elsa looked at her again, Anna could sense a change, subtle though it may have been, in the queen's mood. "You've grown up so much, Anna. I . . ." She swallowed. "You're right. Of course you are. I . . ."

Standing, she stepped forward, moving toward the monument that marked their parents' graves. "Mother . . . Father . . . I . . ."

She swallowed. "I know you already know everything. You can see everything from where you are now. I . . . I've even had the opportunity to speak with you, Mother. I thank you so much for that.

"Even so," she continued. "I feel like . . . Like I need to tell you how much I miss you. How much I wish you were here with us now. I . . . I have tried so hard, Father, to live up to your legacy. To be the queen you always wanted me to be. I have never forgotten how you taught me that a king or queen must put the needs of others above his or her own. And . . ."

She glanced back at Anna, smiling sadly. "And I have tried to follow your words. Perhaps . . . Perhaps too closely over the years."

Her gaze grew cloudy. "I have seen things I never would have imagined were possible, Father. Things that terrified me. Things . . . Things no one should ever have to see. But . . . But I have also seen goodness, and kindness, and love from so many people who by all accounts should despise one another for all eternity. I have done the best I can to protect our people. To build alliances and create peace upon this Continent. And . . ."

She swallowed, forcing herself not to cry. "V was right about one thing, Father. As evil as he is, as monstrous and dangerous as his power can be, I . . . I wish so badly I could speak to you somehow, even if just for a moment. I have spoken to so many I have lost from the beyond over the years. Isarn. Arberish. _Mother_. I . . . I just wish I could know for certain that you are proud of me. Of . . ." She turned back to Anna, the liquid in her eyes threatening to spill over. "Of _us _. . ."

She knelt before the monument. "A sign would be enough, Father. Please . . . _Anything_ . . ."

The breeze whistled in her ears, the setting sun casting its orange rays upon the monument. Nothing happened. _Nothing._

"Elsa?"

Anna's hand touched Elsa's shoulder. "Elsa, let's . . . let's get inside. Please."

Elsa nodded, taking hold of Anna's hand. Rising, she rubbed her eyes, clearing her throat. "Of . . . Of course. We . . . It will be dark soon and . . ."

She looked at the monument one last time, her heart filled with sorrow. "It was stupid of me, Anna. A stupid, stupid wish."

Anna shook her head. "No. It . . . It was beautiful what you said, Elsa. Better than anything I could have . . ."

It was the princess's turn to try to keep herself from crying. "I miss him too, Elsa," she whispered, her lip trembling. "Even after all this time, it still . . . it still hurts me just as much as it hurts you."

The two sisters stood before the monument, Elsa's arm around her younger sister's waist. "Goodbye, Mother," Elsa whispered. "Goodbye . . . Goodbye, Father . . ."

Anna inhaled suddenly. "Elsa, listen!"

Elsa had already turned away, prepared to begin the slow trek back to the palace. "Come on, Anna. I . . . I don't think Iduna should be out here after dark. She could get—"

"Elsa, _wait_!"

The queen turned to the princess, confusion etched upon her brow. "What? I . . . I don't—"

She froze as her ears perceived the sound. The winds had shifted, blowing faster, no longer from the east, but from the south. And amid the whistle of the wind among the trees, the rustling of the leaves, she could sense something growing louder and louder with each passing second. "Anna . . . Anna, what—"

The winds suddenly swirled around the two sisters, dancing around and over them. Warm, inviting, _soothing_. Anna's eyes widened in astonishment as she beheld—

_"Look, Elsa!"_

Elsa felt her breath catch in her throat as hundreds—thousands, perhaps—of butterflies appeared. Their wings fluttered faster and faster as they seemed to ride upon the swirling wind, the multiplicity of colors—all possible shades of orange, red, blue even—shimmering in the light of the setting sun. The fluttering insects danced about the sisters as the warm winds seemed to hold them tight in their embrace.

"Anna," Elsa whispered, hardly believing what she was seeing. "Anna, do you . . . do you think . . ."

The princess looked the queen in the eye, tears streaming down her face. "Yes, Elsa," she replied, her voice hardly perceivable. _"Yes!"_

As the winds died down, as the butterflies disappeared into the horizon, the sisters were as certain as anything they had ever been certain of in their lives that they heard a familiar, warm laugh echoing in their ears. That they had even heard a voice whispering upon the wind—_My girls! My beautiful, courageous girls!_—as it faded into the distance.

Neither sister said a word as, at long last, they began walking back to the palace. Arm in arm, careful not to wake the slumbering Iduna, the two moved as one, each certain in the depths of their souls that they had never experienced such peace, such certainty of their place in the world, as they felt at that singular moment.

* * *

**AN: More to come!**


	10. Chapter 10: Circuity

**Closure**  
**or, Circuity**

**Chapter Ten**

**Circuity**

It was a strange experience, Elsa considered, to find herself wandering the halls of the palace with no idea, well, just _how_ she had arrived in the halls, precisely.

Her last conscious memory was of lying down in her bed to sleep, her spirit strengthened and lightened by both the experience at her parents' grave that day, as well as her excitement at the portrait unveiling with the entire family she had prepared for the following morning. She should be confused, at the very least, at suddenly finding herself moving quietly through the corridors without having actively willed herself to do so. And yet, she remained unperturbed, as if this was perfectly natural, perfectly ordinary. So she continued to let her feet take her where they willed, concluding this was nothing more than a particularly vivid dream, for none of the guards she passed as they executed their night shift patrols paid her the slightest heed as she moved past them, as if she were nothing more than an invisible specter propelled by the delicate breeze wafting through the palace.

Her feet came to a stop before a door she knew all, all too well—the door to the bedroom that had belonged to her for almost as long as she could remember. She frowned, leaning forward, her eyes studying the detail of the artwork decorating the entryway. The paint appeared brighter than she remembered it, less faded with age and the inevitable degradation associated with the passage of time than it had when she had last seen it before retiring for the evening. Now that she thought about it, something seemed, well, _different _about the entire corridor in fact. As if—

Her heart nearly skipped a beat as her ears perceived the unmistakable sound of crying from the other side of the door. "Hello?" she called out instinctively. "Are . . . Are you all right?"

She reached for the doorknob, only to gasp in astonishment as her hand passed through it as if her limb were wholly incorporeal. Reminding herself that this was now, most certainly, nothing more than a dream, she allowed herself to remain calm, choosing instead to simply follow the sound emanating from her bedroom, door be damned. Stepping forward, she smiled slightly as she passed through the door without obstruction. _For a dream, _she considered, _this is most certainly a—_

She inhaled sharply as she beheld the figure seated on the floor against the wall opposite her. Her right hand trembled ever so slightly, the symbol etched into it pulsating with silver luminescence, as she brought her fingers to her lips in astonishment. _This! It . . . It can't be! It's . . . It's . . ._

"Please . . ."

The figure's voice was little more than a whisper, the tone filled with misery, with desperation, with utter resignation. The young woman head was buried in her gloved hands, her platinum blonde hair pulled tightly into a formal bun. Her gray dress enveloped her form, wrapping itself tightly around her, serving not only as a form of clothing but also as a barrier between herself and the world around her.

"Please," she repeated, her hands falling from her face, her gaze unfocused, staring off into space toward a voice only she could hear. "Please, just leave me alone!"

Elsa felt her heart crumble to pieces within her breast as she beheld the face of her younger self. The younger Elsa's eyes were bloodshot, too exhausted from years of crying to have any tears left to shed. Rather than radiating exuberance and happiness at the possibilities life held before her, the young woman gave every indication of being utterly defeated, of being utterly devoid of hope at all.

Elsa crossed the room in four steps, kneeling beside the young woman. Carefully, Elsa brought her hand to her younger self's brow, hoping to reassure her, to strengthen her spirit with her presence. To her dismay, her hand merely passed through younger Elsa as if she were a disembodied spirit, nothing more.

"Look at me," Elsa whispered, her voice tinged with desperation.

Younger Elsa paid her no heed. Rather, the young woman rose from the floor, her hands moving toward her temples, engaged in silent conversation with the voices that were her tormentors. "You're right," Elsa heard her younger self say. "I can't do this any longer. I could never be queen."

There was a pause as younger Elsa listened to the taunts echoing throughout the recesses of her mind. "I know I am," she murmured. "But now . . . Now, I am of age. I . . . I have no choice. I _have _to be queen." She grimaced, a circle of frost emanating from beneath her feet. "That's not true!" she whispered, shaking her head. "I . . . I would never do that! I'm not a monster! I'm not! I'm _not_ . . ."

Elsa jumped slightly as her younger counterpart suddenly threw herself on the bed, her head buried in her pillow. "Maybe you're right," she whispered, her voice filled with dejection. "Maybe . . . Maybe the only way to keep everyone safe . . . to keep _Anna _safe is for me to . . . to . . ." She paused, her eyes closing as the sheer exhaustion from the years of resisting her invisible tormentors threatened to overwhelm her. "Please, God, anyone . . . Please, _help _me . . ."

Her soft sobs soon faded away, replaced with rhythmic breathing. Elsa stepped forward, watching her younger self sleep, the young woman's face contorted in fear as her sleep was filled with the same, horrific nightmares that plagued her night after night after night.

_I remember this! _Elsa suddenly realized. _I remember exactly what . . ._

She staggered backward slightly as memories swept over her. She was witnessing her younger self on her twenty-first birthday, a day that should have been filled with so much joy and happiness at the prospect of her being old enough to finally assume her rightful place as Queen of the 'Delle. Instead, as Elsa had just witnessed, she had spent the day locked in her room, as had been her custom. Anna, Elsa recalled, had knocked on the door repeatedly that day, begging with her, pleading with her to come out and celebrate with her. _Please, Elsa! _Anna had said, standing outside the door that had served as a physical manifestation of the barrier between the two of them for so long. _Please, come see me! Just this once . . ._

The voices had been particularly cruel that night, Elsa recalled. They had mocked her, insinuated that she would use the powers she did not understand and could barely control to torment her subjects, to force them to adore her under pain of death. She had resisted, as she had just witnessed her younger self resist, but the final thing that had said to her before she fell asleep caused anxiety to wash over her once more.

_They would be better off without you, you know, _the voices had whispered in her mind. _It is the only way, dearie, and you _know _it. No matter how much you try to deny it, you are an unholy abomination. No one could ever love you. No one could ever understand or accept you. Why torment those around you any longer? How much more selfish are you going to be, dearie? Save your subjects . . . your precious sister from yourself and do what you should have done years ago._

Elsa watched her younger self sleep, conscious of the fact that the young woman had fallen asleep contemplating, as she herself had, the unthinkable. The Snow Queen recalled that the only thing that had kept her from going through with it the following morning was the voice that had entered her dreams as she had slumbered. She had no idea who it had been or where it had come from; all she knew was that it had been the first voice she had ever heard that seemed to truly understand what she was experiencing, that had given her hope in the midst of the horror that was her everyday existence.

Elsa stood over the bed, her eyes filled with worry as the young woman cried out in her sleep, snow and ice swirling about the bed as her younger self sank further and further into the abyss of self-hatred and misery. "Where are you?!" she cried out, falling to her knees beside the bed. "Why aren't you helping her? You're supposed to be here!"

She reached out her hand to stroke young Elsa's head once more, knowing it was a futile effort, that she was nothing more than a ghostlike apparition unable to interact with the memories she was witnessing. "Help her!" she whispered. "Whoever you are that saved me, please! Save her—"

To her astonishment, her fingertips made contact with the young woman's skin. At her touch, younger Elsa's pained countenance began to relax, her tossing and turning on the bed subsiding as a sense of peace and relaxation came over her. Startled, Elsa ran her hand through her younger self's hair, understanding overtaking her as she felt the softness of the young woman's hair. The symbol on the back of her hand glowed brightly as silvery light swirled forth from it, wrapping the young woman in its delicate embrace.

_I . . . It was me! The whole time, I . . . I was the one who—_

"Elsa, can you hear me?" Her voice was quiet, hardly audible.

The sleeping young woman's eyes remained shut even as the silvery light surrounding her grew brighter. "Yes," she responded, her voice dull with sleep. "Who . . . are . . ."

Elsa smiled as she took the slumbering woman's hand. "It doesn't matter," she said. "Just . . . Just listen to me."

She raised her left hand, allowing the silvery light to coalesce into her palm. "You must not do what you are thinking of doing. Do you understand?"

The sleeping Elsa shook her head, fear manifesting itself on her face once more. "I . . . can't anymore. Too . . . Too tired. Too . . . dangerous. They're right. Better . . . if I . . ."

"No!"

Elsa squeezed her younger self's hand tightly. "You can't think like that!"

"But . . ."

Younger Elsa sighed. "But I'm . . . monster . . . unlovable . . . Anna . . ."

Elsa brought her finger to the young woman's lips. "Anna loves you, Elsa. More than you could ever realize. And you are not a monster. Do not call yourself that. Ever."

Before the sleeping Elsa could protest again, Elsa brought her left hand onto her forehead. The silvery light washed over the princess, sending her deeper into sleep, into a realm of blissful rest. As she slept, Elsa sat on the side of the bed, watching over the young woman.

"You will face many dangers and challenges over the years, Elsa," she said, stroking the young woman's head. "You will experience pain, and sadness. Regret, and abandonment. But . . ." She closed her eyes, allowing the words to flow from her tongue without conscious thought. "But you will also know love and happiness and belonging. And you will appreciate them all the more because of the suffering you will endure. Your trials will help you become the woman you were meant to be." She opened her eyes. "Never doubt for a moment that you have a purpose, and that your purpose cannot be fulfilled unless you let yourself live. So long as you believe this in the depths of your soul, you will find the peace you so desperately seek. Do . . . Do you understand?"

Eyes still shut tightly, the younger Elsa, for the first time in a long time, _smiled. _"Yes . . ."

Elsa kissed the young woman's cheek. "Then rest now, Elsa. Rest and trust in what I've said to you. Always believe in your family. They will help you and guide you when it seems all is lost." Her own eyes growing heavy, Elsa lay down on the bed beside her younger self. "Trust me," she whispered, sleep overtaking her. "Trust me . . ."

* * *

She opened her eyes to find herself in bed, alone. _What . . . What a dream that was._

Rising, she retrieved her robe from the chair beside her bed, tying it around her waist as she walked to the mirror against the wall. She looked at her reflection, smiling as the familiar specks of silver light danced ever-so-subtly in her eyes, piercing through the midnight darkness as the lone candle on the dresser's flame flickered and danced.

"So. The circle has been completed after all."

She spun about, startled, hands raised, blue and silver light radiating from her fingertips. She lowered her arms as her eyes made sense of the figure standing before her. "Is startling me like that really necessary?"

The Maíreth smiled, the radiance of his figure dimming as he stepped toward the Snow Queen. "My apologies," he said. "I forget how easily humans can be startled at times." He took hold of her hand. "It is good to see you again, Elsa."

Elsa nodded. "Likewise, Gábriel. It has been too long."

"Indeed." He gestured toward her head. "I trust you can surmise the reason for my visitation."

She nodded. "That . . . That wasn't a dream, was it? That . . . That was real."

"Of course."

Elsa turned away, folding her arms. "You could have helped much sooner, you know. You and the rest of your race could have spared her . . . _me_ so much suffering if you would have just prevented me from V in the first place." She turned around, confusion and anger evident on her face. "Why? Why did you let him torment me all these years? Is this just some sort of sick joke for you?"

Gábriel frowned. "Frankly, Elsa, I am surprised you would even ask that question. You already know the answer. You said as much to your younger self this very night."

Elsa closed her eyes, her own words ringing in her ears. _You will also know love and happiness and belonging. And you will appreciate them all the more because of the suffering you will endure. Your trials will help you become the woman you were meant to be . . ._

"You see?"

Gábriel took her hand once more. "Can you honestly tell me you would be who you are now without the trials you and your family have experienced? Do you believe you would have finally conquered your fears, your anxieties without them? That you would have accomplished everything you have over these past few years if a life of comfort and privilege had been your lot?"

Elsa thought for a moment. "You know I already know the answer." She glanced toward the window. "The peace we have achieved in this world has come with a great cost to all of us. But . . . But of course, it was worth it. I . . ." She turned back to him. "Of course not."

Gábriel smiled. "Then my purpose is fulfilled."

Elsa frowned, a thought occurring to her. "You said the circle is now complete. That means . . ."

The Maíreth regarded her. "You always have had a choice, Elsa. You could have succumbed to your fears and your demons. But we always knew you never would. Because that is not who you are. Your selflessness has always been your greatest strength. And so, even before you believed in yourself, we knew you would be here to save yourself, as you have tonight."

He glanced toward the window over Elsa's shoulder. "My time tonight grows short," he said. "I must go now."

"Wait!"

Elsa took hold of Gábriel's robe. "I . . . I mean, I just . . . Does this mean that it is over? I mean all of it. The battles. The adventures. The threats to Arendelle and the Continent. Are . . . Are we safe now?"

The Maíreth regarded her peculiarly. "After all this time, you still doubt yourself?" He laughed. "If I know you as well as I think I do, Elsa, you will be able to face any challenge this world throws at you. Because, as you said, your family will guide you when all seems lost . . ."

"Elsa?"

A knock sounded at the door, causing the queen to turn toward the sound involuntarily. A rush of wind billowed about the room. As she turned back to ask Gábriel one final question, she found the room empty save for herself.

The door opened. "Elsa, are you all right? Do you know what time it is?"

The Snow Queen smiled as Anna, Alúvelin, and Valanda entered. "I . . . I'm fine," she said. "Better than fine, actually."

Anna looked at Alúvelin, her eyebrow raised. "Are you sure?" she asked Elsa. "You seem . . . different somehow."

"I agree," Valanda said, running a hand through her flaming red hair.

Elsa simply wrapped her arms around Anna and Alúvelin, pulling them close, gesturing for Valanda to join her embrace.

"Um," Alúvelin said. "What . . . What are you doing?"

"Thank you."

Elsa's eyes were closed, her spirit calmer than it had ever felt before. Anna opened her mouth to ask what was going on, but Elsa simply shushed her. "Stay with me. Please. Just . . . Just for a little while."

The three women nodded, obliging the Snow Queen's request. Time seemed to stand still as Elsa pondered the events of that night in her mind. "I spent so many wasted years alone," she whispered. "Never again. Never. Thank you, my . . . my sisters. Thank you for everything."

None of the women spoke as they held one another. For, in the deepest parts of their spirits, each realized there was nowhere else they would rather be in that moment. All the suffering, all the heartache each of them had experienced in their lives was as nothing now, for they realized, perhaps fully for the first time, that the ties that bound them were greater than blood, greater than lineage. So far as they were concerned, they were sisters in the fullest sense of the term, and nothing, be it the hottest flames or the coldest ice, could ever dispel the love they felt for one another.

* * *

**AN: There should be one more chapter to come. I apologize for the delay in updating, but I wanted to make certain this chapter was published as a Christmas gift for any of my longtime readers who might still be reading this series; I also wanted to make sure (and I hope I have succeeded) that the themes I have been developing over this series are made clear as it comes to an end. Thank you and, as always, more to come!**


	11. Chapter 11: Betterment

**Closure**  
**or, Circuity**

**Chapter Eleven**

**Betterment**

Elsa moved quietly down the corridor, taking care to ensure her footsteps would not be heard by the members of her family who were most certainly still sleeping at this early hour of the morning. Anna, Alúvelin, and Valanda had stayed with her far into the night before finally retiring to bed, the four of them reminiscing about past adventures, laughing, simply enjoying one another's company. The least Elsa could do to repay them for their kindness, she told herself, was to allow them the luxury of sleeping in.

To that end, the Snow Queen stopped before the door to the nursery. As quietly as she could, she pushed the door open, ready to watch over her niece until Anna was awake. She had all the time in the world that day, as no formal business was on the schedule until the following Monday, when Minister Ingeborson would formally be sworn in as the new chief minister of state. "Good morning, Iduna," she whispered, entering the room. "How are you to—"

She stopped as she saw Kristoff sitting in the chair by Iduna's crib, his slumbering form cradling his sleeping daughter against his chest. His left hand was oh-so-delicately perched upon the child's head, his fingers occasionally stroking the girl's ringlets of dark hair as he slept.

Soundlessly, Elsa sat in the chair on the opposite side of the room, hardly daring to breathe lest she disturb the scene before her. She smiled as the six-month-old sneezed in her sleep, a cool gust of wind billowing about her. The unexpected temperature change caused Kristoff to slowly open his eyes. With a yawn, he glanced down at his daughter, a smile tugging at the corner of his lip. Looking up, he sensed a presence in his peripheral vision, his hand instinctively moving to the knife on his belt, his sleep-addled mind suddenly clear.

"It's all right!" Elsa called out quietly, hands raised. "It's just . . . It's just me."

The man relaxed. "You have a bad habit of doing that, you know?" he said, a smirk coming upon his face as his regarded his sister-in-law. "I swear, you're going to give me a heart attack one of these days."

"Sorry," Elsa said, shrugging her shoulders. "I . . . I didn't know you were in here, or I wouldn't have—"

Kristoff waved his hand dismissively, his fingers moving to stroke his newly-shaved chin. "It's fine. Don't . . . Don't worry about it." He looked down at Iduna. "Anna didn't come back to bed until the middle of the night. I figured I'd be nice and let her sleep while I went on night cry duty, and . . ."

His voice trailed off as the child in his arms began to stir, her eyes fluttering open. "Hey," Kristoff said. "How are we doing this morning?" He laughed as Iduna's hand moved to touch his cheek, a look of wonderment in her eyes. "Yeah, I know. Daddy looks a bit different today. Your mama's been pestering me to shave the beard off since before you were born."

He leaned forward, his nose mere inches from his daughter's. "Although, between you and me," he whispered, "I was getting tired of it anyway. It was a lot itchier than I thought it would be, and I—"

He turned to look at Elsa, cocking his head. "What? What's so funny?"

"Nothing," Elsa said. "It's just . . . The way you act with her is so adorable."

"Thanks," Kristoff responded, patting Iduna on the back as he rocked the chair back and forth. "All the embarrassing things I swore I'd never do as a father have sort of gone out the window." He shrugged. "Of course, it helps that I already had the twins to practice on. It's a lot more natural now, I'll tell you, than it was with them." He sighed, his gaze suddenly distant. "Not that I ever really had a model of what a father should be. I've made a lot of mistakes over the years, and—"

"Kristoff."

Elsa stood, rising from her chair to stand next to her brother-in-law. She took his free hand, holding it tightly. "If I may say so, you're an excellent father. And an even better husband. I . . . I couldn't have asked for a better man to marry Anna. I really, really mean that. Not many fathers would be willing to do what you do for your children, the way you always put their needs above your own." She glanced at the knife on his belt. "And when I was gone, I never really worried about whether Anna and the rest of our family would be safe, because I just knew you would protect them. No matter what."

Kristoff nodded. "I'll take the compliment. I'd like to think Anna's changed me for the better. Just like we all have changed for the better over the years. Here," he said, gesturing toward Iduna with his head. "You can hold her now. You look like you're going to burst with excitement if I don't let you—"

He relaxed back into his chair as Elsa eagerly, gently lifted her niece into her arms. "That's my girl," she whispered, her fingers carefully brushing against Iduna's chin. Holding out her palm, she released a gentle burst of snow from her fingertips, the flakes coalescing into a small snowman resting in her hand. "You like this?" she asked, smiling broadly as Iduna cooed and giggled. "Don't worry. I'll teach you how to do this on your own when you're old enough. Just like your brother and sister."

She turned toward her brother-in-law, her smile replaced with concern as he laughed. "What? What is it?"

"Nothing." Kristoff grinned. "I just . . . I remember the first time I saw you. Back in your ice palace, after you had frozen Anna's heart and I ran in after her. If you would have told me then I'd be seeing the scared, terrified girl I saw that day become the queen who's holding my daughter the way you are now, I'd have thought you were insane."

Elsa held still, unsure for a moment of how to respond. "I . . . I suppose you're right," she finally said. "Just like if you would have told me the cynical, misanthropic man I met that day would be talking to his daughter the way he is now and would be one of the bravest and noblest men I've ever met, I would have . . . you know."

Kristoff shrugged. "Touché."

Elsa ran a hand through her flowing locks, her silvery dress shimmering in the early morning sunlight streaming from the window. "We've all changed so much, and yet . . . and yet, it's been a good thing, hasn't it? Because no matter what happens, we'll always be _family_ . . ."

Her eyes widened as a realization raced through her mind. _All of us were broken. So terribly, terribly broken. Me . . . Anna . . . Kristoff . . . Alúvelin and Valanda. But now . . . Now, because we have each other, we're . . ._

"Here."

Gently, she handed Iduna back to Kristoff, turning toward the door.

"Leaving so soon?" Kristoff asked. "And here I thought I was going to get a break . . ."

"Sorry," Elsa said, turning back to face him. "But . . . But I just realized, the portrait unveiling . . . It's not ready! Not ready at all! I have to go! I'll . . . I'll see you all this afternoon in the study! Don't be late!"

Before Kristoff could ask her just what was so important that she had to leave at precisely that moment, why this portrait was so important to her, Elsa had exited the nursery, her footsteps echoing softly down the hall.

"You know," Kristoff said, looking down at Iduna. "I'm starting to think your Aunt Elsa is keeping something from us. What do you think?"

Iduna responded by burping, a small pool of white liquid spilling out her mouth onto Kristoff's shirt.

"Thanks," Kristoff said, glancing down at his soiled garment. "Thanks for agreeing with me . . ."

* * *

**AN: I know I promised only one more chapter last time, but this story is making it very difficult for me to leave these characters in this continuity. I felt I couldn't end the series without one final conversation between Elsa and Kristoff, a character who, while I admit I haven't always used him as well as I should have, deserves to have a moment in the spotlight before this saga ends. I hope I've written the dialogue here authentically, and that I haven't been too on-the-nose with the themes of not only this story but the entire series. That and little Iduna deserved more than a passing mention as well. More to come!**


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